


Wash Away

by TheBlueBicycle



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Good guy Shane, Homophobic Language, M/M, Shane has issues, Younger Daryl Dixon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueBicycle/pseuds/TheBlueBicycle
Summary: The thing about it was that Shane knew that he was a shitty person. A shitty friend.





	1. Chapter One

"You coming over on Sunday?" 

Shane shrugged, legs sprawled out in front of him. He turned his head towards the side window, watching as little water droplets from the rain ran over and down. 

"Shane," Rick tried again. It was hard avoiding a conversation when you were trapped in the car with the person.

"Yeah?" He turned his head, looking at his friend. 

Rick seemed disappointed, a slight frown at his lips. "You haven't been over the past three Sundays. You gonna tell me what's wrong?" 

"Why do you think there's something wrong?"

"'Cause you never miss it. It's family dinner, and you're part of that." Rick was looking at him in that way, staring into his eyes with a genuine look about them. Shane resisted the urge to scoff, or roll his eyes. "Carl misses ya." And that's what got Shane to break, making his attitude soften and crumble. 

With a sigh he nodded his head, "Yeah, yeah. Alright. I'll come over this Sunday. Been busy." 

"With what?" 

"Christ, Grimes. You always this nosy?" 

His friend feigned an innocent look, shrugging his shoulders. "Never known you to keep anything from me is all."

This time Shane really did let the scoff go, though a slight smile was curled to his lips as he shook his head. "It's girl stuff, alright? Lindsay's been dragging me around places, keeping me busy." 

Rick smiled, looking amused. "Lindsay? Thought her name was Linda." 

Shane froze, the cogs in his head turning before he let out a bark of a laugh. "Shit, you're right. Think it's about time to cut that off anyways." 

The two friends shared a laugh together before dispatch crackled into their car, informing them of a disturbance at a local bar and off they went. 

 

\---------------

 

"Ya'll can kiss my ass! This don't concern you none-- You, you fuckin' pigs!" 

Rick and Shane gave a collective sigh, watching Merle Dixon spit venom their way. They'd only just pulled into the parking lot of the bar. It wasn't anything new, at least not with Merle Dixon. 

The man had blood smeared on his lips, though it was runny and the color wasn't bright on account of the rain coming down on them. 

Shane scowled, already having enough of this day and this incident. "C'mon, Dixon. Make this easy on us, will ya? Joe already called, said you were throwing shit around. Broke another one of his chairs. You know the drill, turn around." 

Rick was turning to the others that were around Merle, telling them to back up and move away. "I'm gonna go inside and talk to Joe, make sure he's wanting to press charges. You got this?" 

He nodded his head before turning back to Merle. "You know how this goes. Either easy or hard, now c'mon. Turn around." 

Merle scowled, turning at Shane. "Fuck that, I didn't do nothing! That man wouldn't serve me some beer, cut me off, that fucker kept talking shit, too-- " 

Shane groaned, "Dixon, I couldn't give less of a shit. We go through this every week. Now turn around 'fore I make you." He couldn't help the slight aggression bubbling under his skin. The annoyance, all of his emotions that had been just below the surface during the whole day. 

"Turn 'round, huh? You some faggot? You some piggy faggot?" Merle always knew how to get under his skin. 

With that, Shane charged forwards and Merle lashed out, punching at him. He distantly felt the hit to his cheek before he managed to wrestle the mans arm behind his back before slamming Merle against the hood of his car. 

"Shane!" Rick's voice, his mind supplied. 

Shane didn't pay him any mind and instead worked on cuffing a kicking and cursing Merle. Only when he had him shoved into the car did he address his partner. "He threw at me, caught me in the cheek." 

Rick sighed, spying the slowly starting bruise on his cheek before his shoulders deflated reluctantly, as if he wasn't sure whether or not to believe his partner. 

The ride back to the station was silent between the partners, both of their uniforms wet and sticking to them because of the rain. Silence except for the complete ball of noise that Merle Dixon was. 

Shane couldn't wait to go home and drink a few beers. That, and break it off with Lindsay. No, Linda, he reminded himself. 

The man sighed, shaking his head as he waited for the rest of his day to drip by.

 

\---------------

 

The partners got off at the same time, both walking out to their cars. Rick's SUV and Shane's jeep. 

"Brother," Rick was calling out to him in a soft voice, making both of them pause in the parking lot. The rain was still going, only furthering Shane's annoyance as his shirt got wet. 

"Yeah?" He didn't look at Rick and instead faced his car. It felt like the rain was washing away his walls, washing off his defenses and baring his emotions for the world. Want, guilt, self hatred. He was afraid that Rick would see it if he turned around. 

"You sure you're alright?" 

Shane hesitated but he forced up a smile that would stay for only a minute or two. He turned, "I'm peachy, brother. Gotta get outt'a this rain. I'll see ya tomorrow." 

The smile dropped when he went into his car and he drove off. 

The thing about it was that Shane knew that he was a shitty person. A shitty friend. 

Rick loved talking about Lori. He loved talking about their marriage, and their son, Carl. Carl was still young, only three years old and the sweetest kid that he'd ever met. Shane listened to Rick every day going on about their family dinners that they had every night, and not just on Sunday when Shane joined them, and their family movie nights on Friday, and how nice it felt to have Lori in his arms when he woke up along with Carl bursting into their room moments later. 

Shane had always thought that he was a bachelor and that's the way things were going to be. He wasn't going to settle down because he wasn't good at it, and he had Rick and Lori for family dinners when he wanted them. And that was enough.. Until it wasn't. He still didn't believe that he was a good man, nor was he good at settling down but he found himself wanting something. A family.

For a long time, he thought that he was in love with Lori Grimes. He'd never done anything about it, but he'd thought about it for a long time. He realized later that he wasn't in love with her but rather the idea of her. He was in love with the idea of having someone that would be with him. Stick with him. Support him. Sleep in his bed every night instead of just one night. 

In the midst of his thoughts, he nearly hit a human being. 

It was hard enough to see as it was because of the rain but it was dark and the person was wearing dark clothes, walking on the edge of the road. Shane clenched his jaw, unable to stop the anger inside of him again. And then he saw who it was. The Dixon boy. 

He rolled down his window and waited until Daryl caught up with the side of his car. "You trying to get killed?" The man snapped. 

The teen didn't look him straight in the eye and instead shifted warily on his feet, looking down at the ground. 

"You listening to me? Know you ain't fuckin' mute." 

Finally Daryl looked at him, settling a startling blue set of eyes on him. Shane swallowed. 

"Ain't doing nothing illegal," Finally came the younger ones response. 

Shane couldn't help but sigh, "What're you doing out here anyways?" 

Daryl shrugged, looking off a bit. Casual as if he wasn't soaked to the bone at this point and shivering. "Had to walk. Merle got snatched up." Accusing eyes settled on Shane and he hated the amount of guilt they were able to put there. 

Shane knew very little about the youngest Dixon. Just that he was younger and that he wasn't nearly as bad as Merle. In fact, Daryl hadn't been caught for doing anything illegal and for the most part, he never gave attitude. Or at least, not too much attitude. 

Shane sighed, "Get in." 

Daryl's face was comical, looking at him with narrowed, surprised eyes, his whole body leaning back and away from the car. "Wha-- I .. " He struggled to get out words. 

Shane rolled his eyes, "C'mon now. You're gonna freeze out there, being in the rain like that. See? You're already shivering." He unlocked the doors to his car and reached over, opening the passenger side. It took a moment or two and in those moments, his passenger door got wet, but eventually Daryl got inside of his car. 

Shane cranked up the heat, "Alright. Where to?" 

The other hesitated again, looking like he was in deep thought. 

The officer sighed heavily, "You gonna speak anytime soon?" 

"I'm thinking," Daryl snapped, defensive as always and still shivering in his spot. After all he was only wearing some boots, holy jeans and a shirt that couldn't be keeping any warmth in. 

"'Bout what? Either you know where you're going, or you don't." He knew that he was being a bit of a dick, but he couldn't help it. It was the end of the day and a shitty one at that. Daryl mumbled something that he couldn't hear and it grinded on his gears. 

"What?" He asked in a rougher, sharper voice. 

Daryl swallowed, speaking a little bit louder. "Didn't know where I was going. Was leaving the house, asked Merle to pick me up. He didn't get 'round to it." 

Shane softened immediately after he heard what Daryl was really saying. He'd needed to get out of the house. After all, no one willingly stayed in a home with Will Dixon. There were no illusions to what Will Dixon did to his sons, the whole town either knew or suspected it. 

Shane frowned, deflated as he drove on. 

"Where're you taking me?" The younger asked. 

Shane ran a hand through his hair and continued to drive down the street. "You're staying with me tonight, Dixon."


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Bet I could out drink you any day, Walsh."

The rest of the drive was tense. 

Neither were willing to talk much and Shane was already on edge from his day at work. He was sure that Daryl could sense it from the way the kid was shrinking into the side of his seat that was closest to the door handle. But still, Daryl didn't object. He'd accepted Shane's words with narrowed eyes and a jerky nod of his head before they'd fallen into their current state. 

The only noises heard was the rain beating against the car, the rumble of the Jeep itself and the rock song coming from his radio. 

In a few minutes he pulled up to a home and got out without an explanation, not bothering to look if Daryl was following or not. His home was simple, but it was all that he needed. It was a one story house with a decent sized back yard, stuck right in between two other homes. It was a typical town house, though much less fancy and spacious than Rick and Lori's. What did he need a big home for anyways? After all, he didn't have a family that he needed to house. The bitter thought wiggled its way into his mind and he found himself annoyed. 

He could hear Daryl's footsteps clapping against the wet side walk and still, he didn't turn. Instead he got them into his home, his irritation already at boiling point again as his shirt stuck to his skin in its wetness. 

"Get in," He huffed out, nodding towards the teen before they both got into his home. And then, silence. 

The two of them were standing there, shifting on their feet and staring at each other, soaked to the bone. Daryl, surprisingly, was the first to speak. 

"I can go. Don't need'a be here," His voice was wary again and soft. 

Shane sighed roughly, closing his eyes tight. He knew that Daryl was most likely giving him a way out, another option so he could get out of his hair for the night but he knew that he'd be sending the younger one straight back out into the rain and straight into the scum of the town. 

"You're staying here for the night," He pressed his point on again. "C'mon, take your shoes off. Don't need you tracking mud all over my floors." 

Slowly, Daryl took off his shoes but stayed standing at the rug by the door. 

Shane huffed again, exasperated. "Christ, Dixon. You planning on staying there the whole night? C'mon. Follow me. Need to get something in my stomach." 

The two of them went off towards the kitchen and found themselves on separate ends of the counter. Daryl looked down at the counter top while in turn, Shane stared at him. 

It's not like they didn't know each other, because they did. Shane had more experience with him when he'd been younger. He'd hated those calls, going out to the Dixon place and sometimes pulling Daryl out for questioning. Daryl had been younger then, and even shyer at the time. He'd had a clear distrust for police and hell, he probably still had it. He'd hated those calls because he couldn't do anything to help. Not unless Daryl opened his lips to talk, and he never had.

He tried to think of how old the kid had to be now. Really, he wasn't a kid anymore. Still young, but he was unsure of his age. Probably eighteen, he mused. He'd dealt with Daryl over the years as he'd gotten older but 'dealt' wasn't the right word. After all, Daryl was the only Dixon in his family that hadn't gone to Juvy and he certainly wasn't like his brother who spit out insults and was quick to charge. 

They knew each other, they did. Rick probably knew the kid more, and Daryl was probably more comfortable with Rick but Rick wasn't here now. Rick couldn't fix this now. Rick was at home. With Lori and Carl. 

Eventually, he sighed. "Gonna order pizza. You got a preference?" 

A shake of the head was all he received.

"Meat lovers it is. Stay right there." Shane turned away, ordering a large meat lovers pizza so he'd have left overs for days. He turned back around, seeing that Daryl was staring at a picture on the wall.

A picture of him and Rick on their first day at the academy. Rick's hair had been shorter then and his own nose had been less gnarled. He'd broken it many times after that. The smile on his face had been more genuine. It felt oddly intimate, having Daryl staring at it. 

"Pizza's gonna be here in a bit. You're gonna go an' take a shower. Can't have you dripping everywhere." That, and Daryl looked damn near ready to shake into the next room. He was still shivering, teeth nearly chattering. 

"Don't need a shower- " 

Shane rolled his eyes, cutting him off. "Don't fight with me on this. Your lips are almost blue. What the hell were you thinking anyways? Going out like that in the rain in just those clothes." He regretted the statement as soon as he saw Daryl's eyes look down to the ground, biting at his bottom lip. Because of course he knew the reason why. "Shit," The man muttered. "Just.. Take a shower, alright? You'll feel better." 

With that, Shane led Daryl over towards the bathroom that his room was attached to. It was kind of a mess with some of his clothes from the morning laying around and his shaver still on the bathroom counter along with a half empty tube of toothpaste. 

"Not letting you change right back into those clothes. I'll dry them and in the meantime you can borrow something from me." 

Before Daryl could get a word in he went off to his room, picking out a few things. A pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Shane dropped the clothes off and closed the door behind him, leaving without another word spoken. 

Shane dried off as best as he could in his own room, not nearly as cold or soaked as Daryl. He changed into another pair of sweats and a t-shirt before he went back into his living room, sitting himself down on his couch. 

And hell, he hadn't been prepared. In a few minutes Daryl was walking out and Shane's chest went funny. There was an almost sort of pain in it, and certainly a shock. Daryl was standing there and wearing Shane's clothes. 

The sweats were hanging down far past his feet, and the shirt on him was far too big as well, with the neck line showing off part of Daryl's collarbone. His clothes were practically swallowing Daryl whole. Even though Daryl's shoulders were already quite broad and showed promise of getting bigger, the boy was lean and shorter than him. But certainly again leaner than what he should be. It wasn't the type of lean that people aspired to be. It was the type that Shane wanted to clench his jaw at, and so he did. 

And as for the funny feeling in his chest that was spreading to his stomach? Well, he ignored that.

"Shit," He huffed out. "Guess they didn't fit too well. Should'a known, with you being all skin an' bones." 

Daryl's face screwed up, "Am not." 

"Are too, bean pole." It felt easy, teasing Daryl, and the Dixon didn't seem to be taking it personally either. 

"Can't all be jacked up on 'roids like you," Daryl fired back. 

Shane just blinked, staring at Daryl who was starting to look a bit nervous at his comment about steroids but after a moment the man barked out another bout of laughter. "Didn't expect that out'a you, Dixon." 

Just then, the doorbell rang and they both startled, staring off at his door. 

"Must be the pizza," He muttered before snatching up his wallet and walking towards the door. 

Sure enough, it was. The boy who answered was a regular delivery boy to his house. Probably around the same age as Daryl. 

"Snuck in some breadsticks for ya," Glenn chirped when the door opened. 

Shane grinned, "Am I really that sad? That you're just giving me free food now?" 

Glenn feigned an innocent look, shrugging. "You must be running out of money with how much you order pizza." 

Shane snorted and shook his head, smile still present. "Whatever. Get out of here, you punk." He gave the other his money along with a decent tip before stepping back. 

Though Glenn seemed to hesitate, eyes looking past Shane and at something behind him. Shane didn't have to turn to know that Glenn was most likely staring at Daryl. Briefly he wondered if the two knew each other, but he didn't give himself an opportunity to ask. Instead, he shut the door with one last nod and turned towards the rest of his home.

 

\---------------

 

They ended up sitting on the couch together. Well, they were on the same couch but Daryl was on one side while he was on the other. There's a small coffee table in front of them with the pizza box setting on top and two beers beside it. 

"Couldn't find juice or nothing.. It was either this or water." Shane spoke up when he'd sat down, sliding a beer towards Daryl. "I can get ya something else if you want. Know you aren't exactly old enough anyways." 

Daryl huffed, "Bet I could out drink you any day, Walsh." 

And really, that's a worrying statement since Daryl's a teenager and Shane's very much not a teenager. However he remembered when he'd been in high school. He'd gone out to hundreds of parties and drank probably more than he should have. 

"I'm not gonna challenge you, don't wanna have to be picking you off the floor later." He watched as the teen rolled his eyes, but there was a slight twitch to his lips and that's enough for Shane. 

He was nearly two pieces in when he realized Daryl hadn't touched the food yet. "You gonna eat something?"

The younger man shrugged. 

He reached over, pushing the box closer to Daryl's side. "Eat." 

"Don't have any money to pay you back." 

Shane narrowed his eyes, looking at him in near surprise. "Hell, you don't have to pay me back. It's pizza, Dixon. Eat." His head shook, "Why the hell would I make you pay for a slice of pizza?" 

Daryl's expression turned sour. "Why the hell are you doing any of this?" 

It stunned Shane into silence because really, he didn't have an answer for it. He frowned to himself, jaw clenching and unclenching. "Thought you could use the help and I don't mind giving it." 

It took some time but Daryl nodded and they both fell into silence, eating pizza and drinking beer while they watched a sports game on TV. Shane found that for the first time in awhile he was more interested in the company on his couch rather than the game. He tried not to dwell on it too much. 

 

\---------------

 

Shane couldn't help himself but he kept sneaking glances over at Daryl as the night went on. The other didn't seem particularly interested in the game and by the time that they both had full stomachs, Daryl was nodding off. 

His lips nearly turned up into a smile at the sight of him, crumpled on one side of his couch and wearing far too big of clothing on his body. 

He stood up, scooping the box of pizza up and the two empty beer bottles. He winced at the clanking noise that they made when they hit each other. Sure enough, Daryl jolted awake. 

"Hey," He soothed. "Just cleaning up. You can go back to sleep." 

The teen sleepily shook his head, "No. Wanna help," He pushed himself off the couch, swaying slightly as he scooped up their discarded napkins to follow Shane into the kitchen. 

Shane started packing the food away while he stood at the counter. "Gimme a minute or two and I'll get out some blankets and a good pillow for you to use." 

"Don't gotta."

He snorted, "Quit being stubborn for once and let me help." 

He turned around to see Daryl throwing their napkins in the trash can but he paused when he noticed something. The shirt on Daryl's body was slipping lower, showing the start of a knobby looking spine and more than that, a bruise. 

He blinked. "The hell's that?" 

Daryl turned, a sleepy expression on his face. "What?" 

"Turn 'round." He took a step forward. 

Daryl immediately took a step back. "The hell are you talking about?" 

"There's a bruise on your back. You didn't tell me you were hurt. Lemme see it." 

Daryl scowled, "No need. Hunting accident, nothing serious." 

Shane gave an equal scowl, "Shit. You expect me to believe that? You know I know better. Told you once before, lemme see it. You might be hurt." 

"Not hurt." 

"You have a bruise, how do I know you don't have more?" 

"Because I'm damn well telling you, that's why!" 

Their voices got louder and their tones got sharper. 

"Damn it, Daryl. I'm trying to help, turn around." 

Daryl tried to shove past him and after that it was all instinct. He turned the younger roughly, pushing him against the fridge face first and forcing his shirt up. Bruises painted his skin. All in different hues and different sizes. And more than that, there were scars. They were big and spanning the size of his back, and they'd obviously never received proper medical attention. 

"Holy shit," He breathed out. Everyone in town had known or at least guessed but no one had ever seen the damage for themselves. 

And then he noticed it. Daryl was stock still and his breathing was fast, panicked. 

"Shit," He repeated, removing his hands to let the shirt fall back in place. He backed up a step, "Daryl, I .. " 

The teen turned around quick and shoved past him hard, going off to the bathroom that shut with a slam and the lock turned quick. 

Shane was left with a scarring image in his mind and guilt that ate at him. He gave him ten minutes before he went knocking. 

"Daryl?" 

No response.

"Daryl, c'mon." He sighed, rubbing at his head. "Look, I know I'm an asshole. Shouldn't have done that. I'm not gonna do nothing like that anymore. I promise." 

He heard shuffling around from inside. 

"I've got blankets and a pillow out here waiting on ya. You should really get resting with the look of those bruises." 

Still, nothing. 

"Please? I know I'm a dick. You have my word that I won't do anything like that again." 

He backed up when he heard the shuffling again and watched as the door knob twisted. Daryl emerged from the other side. They stared at each other, Daryl with wariness and Shane with regret.

"C'mon," He requested with soft eyes and thankfully, Daryl followed. 

He thought about offering Daryl his bed but he knew that the other would throw one holy hell of a fit about it, so he kept the idea to himself. Instead he'd fixed up the couch as best as he could. There was a large, soft blanket and a pillow waiting on the couch. Two pain pills sat on the coffee table along with a glass of water. 

"You need anything you let me know, okay?" 

Daryl dipped his head in a nod. 

Shane wished that he could do more. Wished that he could take the pain away. And even more than that, he itched to land his fists against Will Dixon's body. He sighed, shifting on his feet. 

"Goodnight, Daryl."

He started walking away and heard the softest of 'good nights' in return. 

 

\---------------

 

That night he slept fitfully. He couldn't stop thinking about Daryl and what he'd seen. In the morning he got up like he always did, nearly forgetting that Daryl was even in his home with his tiredness. He lumbered around the house in a pair of sweats, grumbling to himself as he went to start the coffee pot. 

That's when he heard a sleepy mumble of his name. "Shane?" 

He jolted, turning quick. "Christ," He breathed out when he saw Daryl standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking only half awake. 

The boys cheeks were pink, though he was unsure of the reason why. 

"Sorry, forgot you were even here. You don't make much noise," He huffed out, half amused. In all honesty, he'd expected Daryl to be gone after the night before. 

"Was just wondering when you wanted me out." 

Shane rubbed at his hair. "You don't have to get outt'a here just yet. Sit down, have some breakfast. I've still got awhile till I've gotta leave." 

The two ended up sitting down at his barely used table, munching on eggs and bacon. Shane leaned back in his chair when he was finished, stretching out his bare chest. The pink cheeks returned from Daryl and he wanted to address them, but he knew that he had to address what had happened last night. 

"Look, Dixon.. " He sighed, "Just wanted to say that I'm sorry again about last night." 

Daryl shrugged. "It's okay." 

Shane huffed. "It's not. I shouldn't have done that, yeah? And I won't, not anymore. But I was thinking," He started out hesitantly. "You can come back here, if ya want." 

Daryl looked surprised, but stayed silent. 

"If you ever need a place to stay or.. Shit, you know what I mean. You can stay here." He winced, rubbing over his scalp in his nervous tick. "That is if you still wanna. Know I'm a lot to handle at times." 

And then Daryl did something that he didn't expect. He smiled. It was small and crooked but there as he gave one nod. 

"I can handle you, Walsh." 

Shane believed him, and smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Also shout out to jenio1 for the wonderful comment that totally called half of what this chapter was about.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sorry we can't all be gentleman like you, Golden boy."

There's a weight on his chest. 

Shane had kept his word and went to the Grimes' home on Sunday for dinner. Lori had shooed him out of the kitchen after he'd stolen one too many bread rolls and Rick was at the table, pouring over a stack of papers. 

Within moments of entering the home, Carl had squealed, "Shane!" 

The kid wasn't the best at pronouncing his 'sh' sounds, so his name came out sounding more like the word 'sane.' He allowed the three year old to pull him around the house and show him his toys just like he always did. 

Shane had a soft spot for the child, the child that was sweeter than most but that was expected since he was being raised by Rick and Lori. He found himself on the couch, lounging out on his back and watching a cartoon show on the TV. Carl was slumped on his chest, sleepy eyes peeking at the TV and closing periodically. 

Being in the house was simultaneously comforting and maddening all at once. Everything was a reminder. Shane had been the one to fix their sink when it broke. Shane had been the one to help Rick rebuild that swing set in their back yard. Shane was the one who came over and helped get a bird out of the house one summer night. He'd been the one to fix their front hand rail on the porch. 

And yet, he didn't belong here. 

Shane chanced a glance over at the kitchen again and watched as Rick got up and came behind Lori, carefully brushing some of her hair behind her ear. The woman granted him a small smile and their lips pressed together briefly. He allowed his gaze to linger awhile. 

With a small huff he looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes. 

"Shane?" It came in the form of a small voice. He ignored it for a moment. 

"Shane?" A chubby hand patted his cheek. 

"Shane!" 

The fingers prodded at his mouth and the man gave a half growl, acting as if he was going to bite the child's fingers as his eyes popped open. Carl giggled loudly, squealing. The boy slid off his chest and went running towards his mother, laughing and yelling about how Shane was trying to eat him.

Rick peered up, fond eyes looking over at his son and wife before sliding towards Shane. He got up, stretching as he walked over. "Let me sit down." 

Shane slid his legs to the side wordlessly and heaved himself up into a sitting position. 

"You've been quiet today," Rick commented. 

He sighed, sending his partner a look. "We really doing this again?" 

"For as long as it takes."

"You're a nut," He rolled his eyes. "Nothing's going on with me." 

Rick hummed but didn't say anything more on the subject, "What'd you do over your weekend, anyway?" 

Shane hesitated, thinking about Daryl Dixon immediately. His thoughts flew to Daryl in his clothes, Daryl falling asleep on his couch, the bruises and marks that he'd found as well. Daryl had left later that morning, changing into his original clothes and acting very stubborn on the fact that he could walk to where he needed to go and so Shane had let him. 

"Same old. Beer and pizza," He finally got out. 

"That all?" Rick asked. 

He groaned, "The hell you wanna hear?" 

Rick stayed calm and collected and it pissed him off to no end. "You said you were cutting it off with that girl." 

He blew out a breath, relaxing against the couch. "Yeah, Linda. Texted her yesterday and cut it off." 

"Texted?" This time the other man looked amused. 

"Sorry we can't all be gentleman like you, Golden boy." Shane prodded but this time it was teasing and without any heat as he bumped their shoulders together. "Besides, it was casual. Nothing special about it. She didn't expect anything more from me." 

Lori called them a moment later, beckoning them to the dinner table.

 

\---------------

 

On Monday night Shane found himself at the bar. 

It wasn't his usual drinking day but Abe was turning a year older and so a group of the officers had gone down to celebrate. He was on the outer rungs of the celebration, not drinking as much as the others since he had to drive himself home. 

He leaned against a beam, a beer in his hand as he watched a drunken Abe rip into the presents that he was gifted. Absently, his eyes scanned the bar. 

They settled on a blonde. She was all alone and sitting on a bar stool, sipping on a light green colored drink. She was wearing tight jeans and a low cut shirt. Her hair was curled and her makeup was done flawlessly. His eyes roamed over her curves appreciatively. She was just his type. 

For a moment he hesitated. He knew that if he went up to her, chances were that by the end of the night they'd be making out in his Jeep and on their way to her place. It wasn't an awful thought, not really. But yet.. He hesitated. There was something tiring in the habits that he'd gotten himself into. 

And just then, a different blonde caught his eye. This blonde's hair was mixed with brown, not truly blonde and choppy looking. This blonde's hair belonged to a boy. Daryl Dixon. The teen was walking right past her, his hands in his pockets and his head down as he rushed past. 

Shane blinked, thrown off. "The hell.. " 

Beside him, Rick chuckled and nudged him with an elbow. He didn't turn to look, instead he was searching for Daryl. He watched as the teen walked over and sat across from Caesar Martinez. 

It shouldn't have been as puzzling as it was. Martinez had always ran around in the same crowd as the Dixon's. Mostly, he'd been seen with Merle even though he was a little younger than Merle himself but definitely older than Daryl. He knew that the other wasn't bad news. Not terrible, at least. He had a family and kept himself relatively clean. 

"Shane." 

He jerked back to the present, looking back at Rick. Rick looked equally puzzled, "What're you looking at?" He followed Shane's previous gaze before it settled on Daryl. The man hummed, lips turned down as he shook his head. Rick looked back towards Abe but Shane was still staring at Daryl. 

"Shane," The man sighed. "Leave it alone." 

"Leave what alone?" 

"You know what. Leave Daryl alone, the kid's not making any trouble." 

Shane would never admit it, but something ugly inside of him rippled at hearing Rick call Daryl by his first name.

"Not doing anything, I'm just looking." He stared as Daryl sat across from Martinez, the two talking quietly. "What do you think he's doing here anyways?" 

Rick sighed again, as if Shane was acting like a little kid with a toy that he just wouldn't let go. "Can't be sure. Martinez's friends with Merle. Merle's locked up now. Makes sense that he'd turn to Martinez." 

"But for what?" 

"Shane, I don't know. But it doesn't matter, alright? He's not doing anything wrong. Doesn't even have a drink in his hand. Let's just enjoy tonight." His friend fixed him with a look, his brow raised. 

Eventually he jerked his head in a nod. "Yeah, alright." He took a swig of his beer and tried to focus on Abe's drunken hollering.

Still, Daryl persisted in his mind. He was like an itch that he couldn't get rid of. A minute later he glanced back, watching as Daryl went towards the exit. 

"Gotta piss," He blurted out.

"What?" Rick frowned. 

"Be right back, gotta piss." He set his beer down, walking towards the exit instead of the bathroom. 

When he got outside the sky was dark and the only light came from the moon and the few streetlights. He looked around, eyes scanning for the other. 

"Dixon," Shane hollered when he saw a lean figure. 

The teen wasn't too far away. Over by a few cars and walking towards the alleyway. Shane walked fast, watching as Daryl turned around and braced himself, looking ready to run or fight. When Daryl's eyes set on him his shoulders relaxed. He walked straight up to the other, "The hell are you doing here?" 

Daryl's eyes narrowed, "The hell are you doing here?" 

"I'm over twenty one, I've got a reason to be there." 

"Wasn't drinking nothing," Came Daryl's muttered response. He kicked at a stray pebble in the parking lot. "Don't believe me? Gonna give me a sobriety test, Officer?" The last part was said bitterly and Shane took a step back, rubbing a hand over his head. 

Daryl spoke out again, "Why the hell did you follow me out here, huh?" That, Shane did not have answer for. The older one blinked, staring. Eventually his gaze fell to the ground, not knowing what to say. For once, he found himself speechless. "Christ, did you ever think what could happen if someone saw us?" 

Shane huffed, rolling his eyes. "Don't give a shit." 

Daryl snorted, though the sound was anything but funny. "Don't give a shit now. Wait till people start asking why you're slumming it with a Dixon." 

That, Shane knew, was true. People would start talking. He thought to himself for a moment, the silence around them becoming uncomfortable, leaving the pair staring at the ground that they were standing on. 

Shane broke the silence, "Let me give you a ride home." 

Daryl looked up, surprised. 

"C'mon, I know you don't have a car. Let me drive you home." When no argument arrived, Shane started walking. "My jeep's this way."

 

\---------------

 

This time Daryl was sitting more comfortably in his seat instead of shrinking himself against the passenger side door. Shane fiddled with the radio until it settled back on the soft rock station that he'd had before. He started driving into the town, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. 

"Never told you where to take me," Came Daryl's wary response after a moment or two. 

"I know." He spoke bluntly. "Need to make a stop before I drop you off." 

They drove in comfortable silence until Daryl piped up, "McDonalds? That's the stop you need to make?" 

"I'm hungry." He wasn't exactly lying. He was pretty hungry, but he was doing it for a different reason too. He still couldn't get Daryl's knobby spine and lean frame out of his head. "You want anything?" He asked as they got closer to the ordering window. 

Daryl was quiet for a moment, eyes roaming over the menu in what could only be described as in a longing way before his head shook. 

Shane nodded his head before ordering. "Yeah, I'll take two double cheeseburgers, two fries and two chocolate shake's." 

"Shane," Daryl argued with a frowning face and then the younger leaned forward, trying to speak up to cancel his half of the order. "Wait-- " 

He put the window up quick, his mind lingering on how Daryl's shoulder was brushing against his own. "What did I tell you last time, huh? Quit being stubborn as shit. Too tired for it," He huffed. 

The man paid for their food at the next window, ignoring Daryl's eyes that were settled on him. In a few minutes he had the bags of fast food and he was able to drive off again. He pulled off into a nearby park, shutting the car off. He took the food out of the bags and handed Daryl his cheeseburger and fires. Immediately Shane started digging into his own, content until he watched the way that Daryl picked at the wrapper instead of the burger itself. 

"You gonna eat or what?" It felt like an old argument now. 

The teen sighed, still just picking at the wrapper. "Ain't right, you doing all this." His head shook. "Need to pay you back somehow."

Shane wanted to roll his eyes and tell Daryl to forget about it, to eat the damn food but he knew that saying that wouldn't go over well. So, he thought. He sipped at his milkshake, "My Jeep's been acting up. How 'bout you take a look at her? Been putting off taking her into the shop 'cause I don't wanna pay for it right now." His brow cocked. "Know you help out at Dale's mechanic shop sometimes." 

Daryl thought it over, before his head nodded. "Yea, okay." His tone was lighter and Shane let out a relieved breath as he went back onto eating his food. 

Thankfully, Daryl started too. 

"The hell are you doing?" He asked in a hard tone as he watched Daryl dip a French fry into his milkshake. 

Daryl looked over, unbothered as he popped it into his mouth. "Hm?" He asked, chewing on his fry. 

"The hell was that." His face was drawn up into disgust at the thought of dipping a fried potato into a milkshake. Daryl seemed puzzled before he looked at his own hand that now had another fry in it, ready to scoop some of the milkshake onto it. 

"What, you've never seen someone do that before?" 

"Dip a potato into ice cream? No." He deadpanned. 

Daryl huffed out an amused breath. "Merle taught me how." A look of regret passed over his features but he pushed through it. "Used to take me to the ice cream shop when I was younger. Buy us some fries and dip 'em into a large milkshake." Daryl nodded towards him, "Ain't gonna kill ya. Try it." 

The man picked up a fry and sighed, staring at the milkshake as if it was lethal weapon. He glanced up, watching as Daryl eyed him expectantly. Reluctantly, he dipped the fry into the drink and popped it into his mouth. He took his time chewing, looking off into the distance. "Guess it ain't too bad." He snatched up another fry and dipped it, popping it into his mouth again. 

"Ain't too bad my ass, you like it." Daryl's eyes held partial amusement in them as they looked over at Shane. 

The two spent the rest of their time finishing up their meals and dipping their fries into their shakes until it was all gone. Once Daryl's last fry was gone the teen stuck each of his fingers into his mouth, one by one and hallowed out his cheeks to suck the salt off. 

When Shane realized that he was watching his body warmed and he looked away sharply, staring at his own empty carton of fries. He distracted himself by firing the car up again, grateful when the radio gave him something the focus on. 

"Drop me off at my place." 

Shane looked over sharply. "You're shitting me, right?" 

A confused look passed over Daryl's face. "Where the hell else would ya drop me off?" 

The man huffed, resisting the urge to say something stupid like 'stay with me.' "Figured you might stay with Martinez or someone." 

Daryl frowned, looking out the window. "Need to go home." The words were heavy and final.

His fingers drummed at the steering wheel, jaw tense as he stared at Daryl before giving a heavy sigh. "Fine." And with that, he drove off.

When they got to the home Daryl was tense again. 

"You know, I don't like this.. " Shane started. 

"Will ain't home," Daryl cut him off quick. The teen looked at the house, biting at the inside of his cheek before he pushed the door open and got out of the car. 

Running on instinct Shane reached forward fast, catching Daryl's wrist in his large hand. They both stared at the point of connection with slightly wide eyes. Still, Daryl wasn't pulling away. Shane's thumb moved on a nervous tick, smoothing against Daryl's skin. 

"You don't need to do this, told you before.. " 

Daryl's look softened, "Know what ya said. Just need to do something." 

Shane was reluctant to let go, resisting the urge to tug at Daryl's wrist and make the teen come tumbling back into the car. After a moment or two, his hand slipped away. Daryl lingered by the door, an unreadable look on his face.

"See ya around, Walsh." And then in a softer tone, "Thanks."

Shane watched Daryl from his car as the other walked off towards the home before he drove away, feeling like his stomach was filled with lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are love. Thanks all!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You scared of a little grease?"

The next day Shane showed up to the station with bags under his eyes, reflexes slow and his temper short. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and that was because of one reason and one reason only. Daryl Dixon. It had been frustrating. It still was frustrating. 

The scene kept playing on in his mind, watching Daryl walk off towards the home. It felt like he was sending a pig to the slaughter house, or a lamb to the wolves. Then, his mind would twist to the hand that he'd had on Daryl's wrist. He was reminded over and over again of how Daryl hadn't pulled away. The touch had felt more intimate, even more so when compared to times when he had a hand up some woman's shirt. 

Shane settled in his desk, looking over the paper work that needed filled out. The station was slow today. He gave a great sigh, glaring at the papers as if they'd personally offended him. Paper work had never been his strength. He kept scribbling on the paper, writing in a chicken scratch until a shadow cast over him and his desk. 

The man's jaw ticked, still staring at the paper. He knew who it was, he could see the start of the uniform. 

Rick was standing in front of his desk, his hands perched on his hips with a disapproving look on his face. It was a familiar look, and a familiar pose at that. Rick had always been his moral compass of sorts. His friend had always made sure to keep him reeled in, even from a young age. 

Today it irritated him. 

"You gonna look at me?" Rick asked after a moment. 

Shane sighed, looking up with his brow raised. "You want something?" 

He wasn't sure when their friendship had become so strained. Absently he thought back onto simpler times when they'd been in elementary school and playing cops and robbers. Back then their biggest arguments had been over who got to eat the last cookie.

"I want you to explain what happened last night." 

"What about it?" 

"Shane," Rick's voice was quieter, but even so it felt like a warning. 

He hesitated before shaking his head, "Don't know what you want me to say. Needed some fresh air, decided to cut out early." 

"You told me you needed to go to the bathroom. And I watched you walk out of the bar, Shane. I watched you." 

Shane threw his pen down and leaned back in his chair, one hand rubbing at the back of his head. "What the hell do you want me to say? I left. Ain't saying that I didn't." 

Rick seemed to be struggling with something internally, shifting on his feet. "What did you do?" 

Shane blinked, not understanding. 

"What did you do?" The other officer asked again. "I know you followed Daryl out there. Why? You haven't ever shown interest in him before." 

"I wasn't-- " It felt like a lie, so he cut himself off. 

Rick shook his head, "You need to leave it alone, Shane. That kid's been through too much already." 

Something inside of Shane twisted at hearing Rick refer to Daryl as a kid. Sure, he'd done it himself but .. That had been different. And he knew better now. It felt uncomfortable to refer to him as such. 

"He ain't a kid," He huffed. 

Rick looked at him, his expression slowly shifting. "What?" 

"Just saying, he's not a kid. He's eighteen, I think." 

Rick looked horrified for a moment, "Shane, tell me you didn't." 

Shane became confused again, frowning. "Didn't do what?" 

His friend looked around nervously before bending, putting both hands on the edge of the desk. "You -- God damn it, tell me you didn't." 

And then all of a sudden it hit him like a blow to the stomach. Memories swarmed him from their senior year in high school, when everything had spilled out. He could nearly hear his own words, babbling and panicked with a slur, 'I'm so drunk-- Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm just drunk.' Shane pushed the memory away before he could dwell on it any longer.

He stared at Rick as if the man had betrayed him. Fiery hot anger boiled in his stomach. 

Abruptly, he stood. "You asking me if I fucked him?" 

Rick seemed caught off guard by the words, as if he didn't think that Shane would have actually spoken them. However the look in his eyes gave him away. That had been exactly what Rick had been asking. 

Shane gave off a bitter laugh, rubbing at his scalp again. His hands were itching again. He let them rest at his sides, clenched into fists. "Oh boy, brother. You sure do know how to cut deep, don't ya?" His mouth twisted, nose and upper lip twitching with an aborted snarl. "You can go fuck yourself, Grimes." 

He shoved himself past Rick, knocking the man back a few steps before he walked out of the main part of the station. 

He spent the rest of his day in silence, telling the captain that he was too busy with his paper work to go on patrol. Rick's guilty eyes bored into him until the man was forced to go on patrol alone.

 

\---------------

 

The next day at the station was filled with silence. 

Rick tried to speak to him a few times, but the conversation starters fell flat. Shane felt uncomfortable with all the silence. He wanted to fill the patrol car with chatter about the latest sports game. He wanted to complain about the shitty service from the diner that he'd gone to a few nights before. Hell, a part of him even wanted to hear about Lori and Carl. 

But yet, nothing felt the same. Things felt off balance and Shane was unsure of when things could return to normal, or if they could at all. 

The silence lasted for the whole day, and others noticed it, too. The pair of them were sent looks and worried glances when they came back at the end of their work day, silent with their eyes tracking the floor. It was a big change from the usual loud comments that Shane would make about the calls they'd had that day, or Rick rolling his eyes and laughing along with him. 

Shane ducked out of the station before anyone could approach him, day dreaming about putting his feet up on his coffee table and drinking a few beers. As he drove, he thought back to Rick's accusations. What bothered him the most were the memories that the accusation brought with it. And even more, Rick was right. Not fully, but his friend could tell on some level. 

He wondered what had ticked the man off, and he was certain it was his own comment that he'd made about Daryl being eighteen. He hadn't fucked Daryl, and the thought hadn't crossed his mind but other thoughts certainly had. He wasn't dense- Or at least, when it came to these things, he wasn't. He'd known what that feeling in his chest and stomach was when Daryl had walked out wearing his clothes. He knew why it felt so intimate to have a hand on Daryl's wrist. 

He knew it all, he just wasn't acknowledging it. 

Shane took his time getting home, picking up a pack of beer at a gas station while he filled up his Jeep. When he rolled down his street, there was a form sitting on his porch. It was hunched over, so he couldn't see the face but he knew that hair anywhere. 

He pulled up, ignoring his racing heart as he got out of his Jeep with his six pack in one hand. "That you, Dixon?" 

He already knew, he already knew-- 

The forms head jerked up, and sure enough a pair of blue eyes stared right back at him.

 

\---------------

 

In the matter of a few minutes they found themselves in a near identical position to what they'd been in just a few days before. Daryl was shifting on his feet, sticking by the door. 

"How long you been out there?" Shane asked. 

Daryl shrugged, bringing a thumb to his mouth to bite at the edge of it. "Dunno." 

The man sighed, fixing the teen with a look. "You gonna give me an actual answer or what?" 

There was hesitation before Daryl answered, "An hour or two." 

"Shit," Shane hissed, shaking his head. 

"No one saw me, kept my head down the whole time," Daryl muttered. 

He frowned, "That's not what this is about." 

"Yeah, it is," Came the resigned tone. 

"No, it's not." Shane firmly spoke. Yes, he was worried about his neighbors seeing Daryl but his immediate reaction had been to Daryl sitting out there for a few hours. 

The two stared at each other, each stubborn and unwilling to let their points go until Shane noticed the small tool box that Daryl was carrying. "What's that for?" 

"Said you'd lemme take a look at your car." 

He'd hoped that Daryl would have forgotten about their little deal, really. He hadn't been lying since his Jeep had been acting up but it wasn't anything major. It'd been an offer to placate Daryl, and he should've known that the teen was going to take it seriously.

"Yeah, okay." Shane blew out a breath. "Lemme get the car into the garage and you can get to work." 

It was already starting to get dark outside and so he drove his Jeep into the garage before he shut the garage door behind him, turning the lights on to illuminate the space. Daryl was by the entrance door to his home that was connected to the garage, biting at the inside of his cheek. 

"What's wrong with it?" 

And from there, they jumped in. 

Shane didn't know a lot when it came to cars and he couldn't hide that fact very well. As he floundered and fumbled over his explanation Daryl smirked, talking easily about the different parts and what could be wrong. Shane was slightly taken back by how much the other knew and by how much more comfortable he seemed when he had his hands in a cars engine. 

Eventually he found himself sitting in a fold up chair in the garage with a beer, watching as Daryl worked on his Jeep. 

"How'd you know how to do all this shit anyways?" He asked, taking another swig of his beer. "Before you started helping at Dales, I mean." 

Daryl was silent for a moment and Shane wondered if the other was going to answer but soon enough, he did. "Merle taught me." 

The mere name of the older Dixon left them in silence for awhile. 

"What'd you have to do? The other day when I dropped you off at your place. What did you have to do?" He knew it was a personal question, but it didn't stop him from asking it. 

Daryl straightened up from his spot at the car, cocking a brow at him. "You ever stop asking questions?" 

He cracked a smile, shaking his head. "Nah, I don't think I do. Have a hard time shutting up most days." 

Daryl's lips quirked up, but he said nothing. 

"You gonna answer me?" The man asked a moment later. 

The teen sighed, "Can't work good if you're sitting there and asking me all these questions. You gotta hover like that?" 

"Ain't hovering." 

"Are too, only sat your ass down but a few minutes ago." 

Shane couldn't argue with that and he took another swig of his bottle. He ignored the itch in him that demanded he find out what was happening in Daryl's life. He remembered what had happened the last time he'd let instinct take over, and the last time that he'd pushed. 

"You hungry?" He pushed himself up from his chair. 

"Know you're gonna make me eat whether I am or not." 

The officer huffed out an amused breath, climbing the stairs to get back into the house. 

"Pizza or Chinese?" He looked back to Daryl, watching where he was bent over the engine. His eyes roamed over the others body without his own consent. A warmth was starting to bloom through his stomach again before he jolted at the sound of Daryl's voice. "What?"

"Said Chinese." Daryl stayed blissfully unaware of his wandering eyes, still focused on the engine in front of him. 

Shane blinked, swallowing roughly. "Yeah, yeah. Chinese it is."

 

\---------------

 

When Daryl came in he was covered in grease. Motor oil was smudged all over his hands and arms along with his shirt and his hair was damp with sweat. 

"If you think I'm letting you sit on my couch like that, you're crazy." 

The teen didn't seem fazed, only cocking a brow. "You scared of a little grease?" 

"I'll hose ya down in the back yard if I gotta." 

Daryl snorted, "Like to see you try." Then, his head shook. "Didn't bring a change of clothes. Pointless to take a shower an' change right back into these." 

"Then don't." 

"What?" Daryl's expression was doubtful. 

Shane's jaw clenched, feeling an uncharacteristic like nervousness brewing within. "Could stay," He started out. "Don't have to leave. Can stay over, borrow some clothes of mine." 

The thought was a welcomed one, and he found himself pushing more and more towards it. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other with equally wary looks before Daryl finally jerked his head in a nod. 

"Yeah, alright. Might as well. Didn't get your Jeep all the way done. Might have to order a part to get it running smooth again." 

Shane rolled his eyes, but his expression was lighter. "Yeah, yeah. We can talk cars later. C'mon now, before you stain my house." 

In a matter of minutes Daryl was back in his shower with a pile of Shane's clothes waiting on him to change into. It was nearly like a bad habit, letting this happen again. And he wasn't just letting it, he'd pushed for it. He'd offered it. He knew exactly why he liked seeing Daryl in his clothes. 

Shane was getting the Chinese food from the delivery boy who he wasn't as familiar with as he was with Glenn when Daryl came out of his room. The younger one looked like he belonged there. In his house. He was rolling up the waist band of his sweats so he didn't trip over the edges, and his eyes zeroed in on the collar bone that was exposed from the too-big neckline of his shirt.

The warmth was spreading through him again, and he absently shoved a tip towards the delivery boy before he shut the door. 

It was a similar scene to the last time, but with slight changes. They were still eating on the couch, but Daryl wasn't quite pressed into the opposite side. They weren't touching, but they were closer. Shane put on another sports game but ten minutes into the meal, words started tumbling out of his mouth. 

"What's up with you and Martinez?" 

Daryl huffed, cheeks puffed out with the rice that he'd stuffed in it. "We still doing questions?" 

"We are." 

The teen rolled his eyes, "It matter? Met him through Merle." 

It was a good enough explanation, but Shane wanted more. It was like that itch all over again, wanting and needing to know why Daryl had been talking to the other man. 

"Seems like ya know him well if you're showing up in bars with him." 

Daryl snorted to himself. "That what this is about? Me being in a bar? Ain't a crime. Wasn't drinking nothing an' I'm eighteen." 

Shane set his take out box aside, fixing Daryl with a look. "Don't matter. Shouldn't have been in there either way. Especially with him." 

"What the hell's wrong with Caesar?" 

The ugly, rippling feeling inside of him moved again. 

"Caesar?" 

"That's his name, ain't it?" Daryl seemed exasperated by this point. 

"Don't think you should be hanging 'round with him is all." 

"Ain't up for you to decide," Came the defensive response. "'Sides, he ain't a bad guy. Stays clean for the most part, has a family." 

Shane shook his head, "Doesn't make him a good guy." 

"And you are?" Daryl fired back, eyeing him with slight anger in his eyes. 

That made Shane pause, the look on his face crumbling. Slowly, he relaxed into the cushions of the couch.

"No," He pressed his lips together. "Guess I'm not." And he believed it, too. 

The rest of their dinner was spend in silence. 

 

\---------------

 

The night was ended shortly after. Shane quickly said that he was tired, and he'd gone upstairs to sleep while Daryl stayed downstairs and on the couch. He told himself that the comment hadn't bothered him, but he knew that wasn't the truth. 

He couldn't sleep despite his lies about being tired and he so he tossed and turned in his bed for awhile. Around midnight, he finally let himself get up and he stretched out his legs and went downstairs. He lumbered around in his briefs, a scowl on his face as he went towards the fridge for something to drink. 

And that's when he heard it. First, it was just rustling. He glanced towards the couch. Daryl was there, shifting around. He continued on to get his drink. 

Then, he paused again. There was a mumble, and a noise. It reminded him of what a wounded animal sounded like, and immediately he was walking over. 

The Dixon was still asleep, but his body was fidgeting with twitchy fingers and a tossing head. A nightmare, he realized. When Daryl whimpered Shane let his hand come out, shaking at the teens shoulder. 

"Daryl," He spoke quietly. "C'mon now, wake up. Just at dream." He shook the shoulder again and Daryl sprang up stiffly, his hands coming up to grip Shane's arms. His breathing was shallow and his face was turning pale. 

"Shit," He huffed. "Hey, hey. Look at me, take a deep breath." 

Daryl's wide, frightened eyes settled on Shane after their frantic travel around the room. " I-- He -- " Daryl couldn't get the words out. 

"None of that, ya hear me? It was a dream. Don't gotta explain it to me. Focus on breathing. In and out for me." His hand slid from Daryl's shoulder to the back of his neck, his thumb stroking at the skin and sliding into Daryl's soft hair. Daryl's own fingers were becoming tighter on Shane's arms, dragging him closer, his breathing still unsteady but becoming better. 

"You're alright," Shane murmured again. 

He'd always been a bit uncomfortable when comforting people, or faced with situations like this, however the urge to make things better when it came to Daryl was somehow easier than what everything else had ever been. 

The man hesitated before he let his hand slide into Daryl's hair, gripping gently to make the others gaze stay on him. The pair stayed like that for a few more minutes until Daryl's fingers eventually fell away, as did Shane's hand. 

"Sorry," Daryl muttered embarrassedly with pink cheeks. 

He shook his head, "Don't apologize for something you can't control." 

They shared a look with each other before Shane stood up. 

"C'mon, scoot over." 

The younger blinked, biting at the inside of his cheek. "Don't gotta do this. Was a stupid dream. Go back to sleep."

"Are you gonna?" Shane asked. "Go back to sleep. Are you gonna?" 

Daryl hesitated, and that was all the answer that he needed. He settled down next to him, suddenly very aware that he was only in a pair of briefs but he'd been down here this long. He grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV. 

"I'm sure there's a shitty movie playing on here somewhere." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Daryl staring at him and when he turned to look, the other had quickly looked back to the TV, cheeks a rosy color. His mind wondered if it was the lingering blush from before, or something entirely new. He didn't allow himself to think on it for long.

They stayed quiet for about a half hour before Daryl softly piped up. "Shane?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm sorry, about what I said before." The teen looked at him. "You're not a bad guy." 

Shane huffed out a slight breath, ignoring how the words made him feel. "Yeah? You're alright too, Dixon."

 

\---------------

 

The sun rose the next morning, casting a warmth in the windows and onto the pair sleeping on the couch. Shane was snoring, his head tipped back with an arm stretched across the back of the couch. Under that arm was Daryl, who was slumped slightly with his head lulled onto a bare chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are love. Thanks all!
> 
> Also this probably isn't well edited, my apologies!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've seen him before. He's Daryl Dixon, isn't he?"

Shane went in and out of his slumber. When he woke up, he was alone and only left with flashes. Memories, he realized. They weren't just from his imagination. He could remember shifting around when the sun was hitting his eyes from the windows. He could remember his arms tightening and bringing a body closer. A head on his chest, a hand squeezing at his arm and then.. Nothing. 

The man sat up fully, burying his head in his hands as he forced himself to wake up. His hand left his face, pressing against the spot next to him. It was cold, and it left him wondering if maybe it had just been his imagination after all. He stared at the empty cushion as if it might transform into Daryl at any moment. With a sigh, his head shook and he forced himself to his feet. 

"Daryl?" 

The sound of his voice fell flat in the painfully empty home. He'd never woken up and wished that a person was still there before. He'd always been the one doing the leaving. His home was always empty, however that was always okay. Until suddenly it wasn't. Until suddenly Daryl was occupying space and then.. Nothing. 

A quick glance at the clock told him that he should be getting around to get ready for work soon, but still he stalled. He was looking for something. Any evidence that Daryl had been in his house last night. The kitchen was empty, the living room was empty. It was all empty. 

With a roll of his shoulders, he started towards his room. He was nearly to the shower when he noticed a bundle of clothes on his bathroom floor. They were neatly folded and used from the night before. They were Shane's clothes that Daryl had worn. 

On top was a little slip of paper. The paper was ripped at the edges and wrote in a hand writing that was almost as bad as his own. 

'Had to leave. Car's fine to drive. I'll be back later. -D' 

Shane found himself staring at the note for a minute or two, lingering on the words. His thumb brushed over the slip of paper before he straightened up again. His fingers twitched against the piece of paper, debating on whether to throw it away or not but in the end he left the piece of paper on his counter top, right next to his toothbrush holder. 

Shane bit back a smile and went on washing himself in the shower, thinking to himself that today could be an alright day. 

 

\---------------

 

Later. 

The word was simple and used in day to day life, but what did it mean? A few hours? A few days? A few weeks? He couldn't stop thinking about it, wondering on and on when he would see Daryl next. Still, it made him frustrated. It made him frustrated that Daryl was getting under his skin so easily and invading his thoughts in ways that no one had done in years. His mind seemed stuck on a Daryl centered cycle.

First, he would wonder when he was going to see the other again. Then, his mind would flash to an image of Daryl in his clothes. From there he would remember shaking the younger awake from whatever had been torturing him in his sleep. He struggled to grasp the fuzzy memories of the two falling asleep together. And then, it repeated. When would he see Daryl again? 

There wasn't any distraction from his thoughts at work. Rick and he still weren't talking, or rather he wasn't talking. Rick sometimes tried, or at least put forward gestures that seemed like apologies. However Rick's words and presence made him feel like a little kid all over again, being scolded for something. He felt guilt for something that he hadn't even done. But.. He'd thought about it, hadn't he? He was thinking about Daryl in ways that he didn't want to admit. That put partial guilt on him, right? 

Despite Daryl's words, he didn't feel like a good man. 

Their car rides were spent in silence, and Shane kept telling himself that their friendship would bounce back. It had back in high school. However, back then he'd had the pretense of pretending that he was completely trashed. 

Their days went on like that. Silent. 

Shane tried to open his mouth once or twice, but nothing ever sounded right in his head. It was maddening. He wanted it back, he wanted it all back. He didn't want to have to think about his words before he let them out. He never used to when they'd been younger. 

Soon it was Friday, and Daryl still hadn't shown. It was the end of their shift when he and Rick pulled into the station. He was about to get out of the car before the door locked shut. Shane sighed, looking back to Rick. 

The man had his hand on the lock button, a sheepish look on his face. "Shane," He started. Shane knew that he could leave, their was a button on his side too but yet he felt stuck in his spot. "We can't keep going on like this. You've gotta talk to me sometime." 

"Not real sure what you want me to say." 

"Anything," Rick's voice seemed strained. "Anything. You can tell me anything, brother." 

Shane was quiet for a moment before blowing out a breath, "Brother." He repeated. "You think I'm a good man, brother?" 

Rick seemed to pause at the tone Shane was using, stuck in place. He stared. 

It was a moment too long for Shane. His lips twitched into a bitter smile, "Yeah, that's what I thought." 

"Wait- Shane," He locked the door again when Shane unlocked it. 

"God damn it, Rick. Let me out of the damn car." The anger was curled tight in his chest, ready to burst. 

"You need to listen to me!" 

Shane's face pulled, nearly growling as he turned. "Listen to what, huh? You don't have to say anything. Know what you're thinking. You can't hide nothing from me, I know you better than that."

Rick looked desperate, "You're right, you do know me. But I don't feel like I know you. I'm worried, alright? I'm worried about you, I'm just worried about what you're doing. You haven't been yourself, haven't been acting like yourself for awhile." 

"And who am I, huh?"

His mind flashed to a high school boy. The jock, the comedic relief. The one that girls went to when they wanted to fool around. Hell, when a teacher wanted to fool around. Then, his mind flashed to another high school boy. The smart one, the golden boy, the one that girls wanted dates from. 

"I fuck and leave, ain't that right? That's me, ain't it? Then what the hell does it matter if I do it with him?" Shane was shouting now, red in the face from his anger and sweating in the confined space. "That's what you think I'm gonna do.. Then just lemme be. Let me go, Rick." 

This time when Shane unlocked the door Rick let him. The man walked out of the car, leaving a stunned officer sitting alone. 

 

\----------------

 

When Shane pulled into his driveway he shouted in his car, unable to keep his anger and hurt at bay any longer. He beat at his steering wheel until he felt better. Or rather, more calm. The man walked into the home, slamming the door shut and kicking his shoes off roughly. He wanted to do damage. His hands itched again, wanting to lash out against something. If it was possible, he wanted to forget. 

That night he went to sleep with two beers in his body. 

At one in the morning he was roused awake by a knock at the door. He groaned, wishing the noise would go away. He tried to ignore it, but the knock persisted. 

The man squinted at the clock. "One in the fuckin-- " He hissed, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me." 

A knock at one in the morning nearly always meant trouble, so he grabbed his gun just in case as he traveled towards his door. The knock kept on and on and on. He got closer, walking with only his underwear on and a gun in his hands. He looked through a nearby window, but he didn't see a car parked anywhere. The angle was too sharp to fully see the person at his door, but he went to the door anyways and pulled it open. 

All of a sudden, his gut twisted. 

Daryl was standing. Hardly, it seemed. He was swaying around. There was blood on the teens temple but other than that, there was nothing. Nothing that he could see. With Daryl swaying around he was sure there was something else. 

"Shit, Daryl," He stepped back, letting the other inside before he closed the door. He could feel it inside of him. Something ugly was forming, begging to be let out. "He do that to you?" Shane's voice was deadly, laced with anger. 

Daryl didn't answer. 

"God damn it, answer me! Did he do that to you? Did that bastard touch you?" His chest was heaving. The anger was hard to push away. It felt like it was consuming him. 

"Who," Came the mumble. 

"You know who! Where the fuck is he? I swear, I'll just-- " He stepped towards the door, nearly about to leave with only his underwear on and teach Will Dixon a lesson. 

"No! Shane, stop! Shane," The voice was crumpling as Daryl grasped his arms before the teen seemed to crumple against the door as well. "Shouldn'a came -- M'sorry," His voice sounded slurred. 

And all of a sudden, Shane's anger crumpled right along with the form in front of him. He took in a few breaths, trying to calm himself. "Hey, none of that." They were nearly the same words that he'd used those few days ago. 

Shane slung Daryl's arm over his shoulder and moved him through the house, dumping him as gently as he could on the couch, immediately kneeling. "C'mon, I know you're hurt worse than that head of yours. Gotta tell me what happened, gotta tell me where to look." 

Daryl's head shook, lulling against the back of the couch. "No, can't," His hands came to hold onto his shirt and Shane knew. 

The man pried the others hands away easily and rucked up his shirt. "Christ," He breathed out. Daryl's ribs were an alarming shade of red. Everything was exploded in color. His whole torso seemed to be one giant bruise. "Need to take you to the hospital, need to do it now." 

Daryl made a whining sound, shaking his head again. "No hospital. Can't. Shane-- " He made a noise of discomfort. "Shane, please." 

He blinked, the words seeming to echo around his ears. With a rough sigh he let the shirt fall and he looked up at Daryl's head. The blood led to a cut, but it didn't seem deep. Then again, a cut didn't have to be deep to cause damage. "You hit your head on something?" 

No response. 

"God damn it, Daryl. Answer me. You hit your head on something?" 

Daryl hummed with his eyes closed. "Dunno." 

"C'mon, stay awake with me." Shane had the basic medical training that he'd received in the academy, but damn if that wasn't a long time ago. A beat passed before Shane scooped Daryl up in his arms. 

"What're you doin'?" Daryl's words were still slurred. 

"You won't let me take you to the hospital? Fine. But I sure as hell ain't letting you sleep on that damned couch." 

"Don' gotta," Came the mumble. 

He sighed, "Yeah. Yeah, I do." A head lulled against his chest. 

A few moments later he deposited the injured one in the middle of his bed. He leaned over, his hand coming out to lightly pat at Daryl's cheek. "Open them eyes. Just a few minutes more and then you can go to sleep." 

He went off to the kitchen, trying to calm the animal inside of him that wanted to go out and beat Will Dixon into the ground. But he couldn't. Because Daryl was here. And Daryl needed him. He snatched up some pain meds, a glass of water, and some ice packs along with a wet towel. 

The man sat the bed, shaking Daryl's shoulder lightly. "Told you, keep your eyes open. Just a little longer." Daryl blinked his eyes open, silent but his hazy gaze stayed on Shane. "Here, lean up a little and swallow these." 

In a few minutes time Daryl had a few pain pills in him, the dried blood was washed away and there was an ice pack leaned against the side of his head and a few over his rib cage. The younger shifted around uncomfortably. 

"Hold still, don't need you moving around and getting the ice packs off of you." Shane chided gently, watching as Daryl shifted his legs around again. He sighed, "You want these off?" 

Daryl made a slight noise, but the younger already looked nearly asleep. He hesitated before he took off Daryl's shoes. Then, he hesitated even longer before shimmying Daryl's pants off of him. Distantly, he thought that Rick would have a heart attack if he knew he was undressing Daryl Dixon right now. It left Daryl in a t-shirt and a ratty looking pair of boxers. He grabbed up his sheets and comforter, tucking it up and around the others body. Daryl stirred lightly. 

"Everything's okay now." He murmured, shifting up towards the upper part of the bed. His hand twitched before he let it run through Daryl's hair, smoothing through the strands. "Everything's okay now." 

Daryl's breathing evened out and in a matter of minutes he was asleep.

Shane wasn't sure how long he stayed there, watching and brushing fingers through Daryl's hair. He just knew that he stayed. Eventually, he moved himself to the floor. Falling asleep next to a person was one thing, but doing it while he was still aware? That was a whole different ball game. 

He told himself that he didn't need the closeness, that he didn't want it. It didn't sound convincing in his own mind but he forced himself to stay sitting on the floor and leaned against the side of his bed. 

At two o'clock in the morning Shane fell asleep too.

 

\----------------

 

Around five o'clock a hand shook at his shoulder.

"Shane," The voice was raspy with sleep. 

"Hm?" He mumbled, not opening his eyes. 

"Shane," The voice and hand persisted. "C'mon. Wake up." 

Shane breathed in sharply before opening his eyes. He stared at Daryl, expression clear for a moment before he scowled. "The hell are you doing? Lay back down before you fuck up your ribs." 

"What the hell are you doing?" The teens tone was sharp, but then his expression faltered. "It's your bed. Not right, taking it. Having you sleeping on the ground like that." 

They stared at each other for a good while, both daring to see who would say the words. In the end, neither of them did. 

Shane got up and snatched up the half cold ice pack that Daryl had tossed to the side. "Back on," He ordered. 

To his relief Daryl listened and in the matter of a few moments Shane was under the covers next to him, the two of them falling back into a deep slumber. 

 

\---------------

 

The next time he woke up, it was to a knock again. He groaned, pressing his face into whatever was near. It was soft, and smelled nice. His hand squeezed on instinct and smoothed up a rib cage, underneath a shirt and over smooth skin. However the bumpy rib cage was what made him come awake. The man jolted away, horrified with himself for a moment. His hand had been up Daryl's shirt, and his face had been certainly pressed against the back of the others neck but thankfully Daryl still seemed to be asleep. He let out a breath before the door was being knocked at again. 

He groaned and figured that it was probably time that he wore pants when he went to the door, so he slipped on some sweats before he walked out of his room and towards his front door. This time he didn't bother with checking the windows. It was a Saturday morning. Early, but not awfully so. 

Shane yawned, opening the door before promptly freezing. "Lori?" 

The woman was standing there, a nervous smile on her face but it was genuine. "Hey, Shane." Carl was in her arms, but the child was squirming and demanding to be let down so he could greet the other. 

He picked the child up as soon as Carl was close enough, settling him at his hip. The child smiled, "Shane!" Little arms wrapped around his neck in a hug. 

"Hey," He managed to get out. "Missed you too, bud." 

Lori smiled, a bit more relaxed now. "I'm sorry for coming over without calling, but I.. " She blew out a breath. "Can I come in?"

Suddenly, Shane's mind flashed to Daryl who was in his room. That's what made him hesitate but he backed up after a moment, "Yeah, alright. Come in." He backed up a step, letting the woman in but they stayed by the door. "Something wrong?" He asked. 

The woman's expression fell, and she looked to the floor for a moment. "I know you two are fighting," Her voice was soft. "Rick won't talk to me." She gave a smile, but it was a bit hysterical this time. "But, that's Rick." Her head shook. "I know something's wrong with you two. And it's okay if you two don't wanna talk with me about it but .. Shane, he could really use a friend right now." 

"What do you mean?" 

Lori's facial expression was wary now, full of hesitance. "He could just really use a friend right now. Someone to talk to, because he sure isn't talking to me." She forced a smile, but her eyes were strained. 

Thankfully Carl stayed unaware, content to look around the house from his spot in Shane's arms. The Grimes family had been over before, but usually they always stayed at their home for dinners, not his.

Shane stayed silent. 

"You know, when Rick took me out on our first date he was nervous. He kept babbling, searching for something to talk about. He kept going back to you. You're in all his stories. You're important to him. Whatever's happened between you two.. Please, work it out. Try. You two have been through so much to just up and quit talking now." 

He sighed, shoulders slumping. "It's not that simple, Lor." 

Lori opened her mouth, but Carl's voice caught their attention. "Who's that?" The child piped up in his arms. 

Shane's heart stopped, and he looked behind. Sure enough Daryl was standing there, looking like a deer in headlights. Shane looked back to Lori, who's eyes were wide now. The four of them were all silent for a good few moments, the atmosphere growing thick and uncomfortable. 

"Oh," Lori finally got out. "I-- I'm sorry. I didn't know you had anyone over. We'll get going and get out of your hair."

Before Shane knew what was happening Carl was plucked from his arms and Lori was out the door. Shane sent a glance towards Daryl before rushing off towards Lori. He shut the door behind him, going out to the car where she was already putting Carl in his car seat. 

"Lori," He tried. The woman didn't look at him at first, fussing with Carl. "Lori," He tried when she shut the child's side of the door. "Lori, look at me." He grabbed her arm gently but firm enough to keep her close. "You need to look at me." His voice was pleading. 

She did, blinking at Shane. "Who was that? Why was he -- " She swallowed roughly, her hand making a motion that he couldn't follow. 

"It's nothing, you hear me? But you can not tell Rick about this. Nothing. You're gonna tell him nothing." He let out a shaky breath. "Please." 

She looked off towards the home. "Does he have to do with this? With you two acting the way you are." 

Shane didn't say anything, just sighed and let his hand drop. 

She was quiet, wrapping her arms around herself for a moment. "I've seen him before. He's Daryl Dixon, isn't he?" 

He nodded his head. 

Lori let out a breath before she reached out, squeezing at Shane's arm. "When you're ready, I want you to explain this to me. All of this." She took a step away, opening the door to her car. "I want this to get better, Shane. I mean it." 

Shane kept quiet, watching as Lori drove out of his driveway. 

 

\---------------

 

Daryl was near frozen when he came back inside. He seemed to sense that he wasn't supposed to be shown, and he wasn't supposed to be seen by that person in particular. They stared at each other, one with a conflicted gaze and one splattered with bruises. 

"Your.. Your phone rang. Woke me up, was coming to get you. Didn't know there was gonna be someone out here," Daryl's tone was small and apologetic. 

His head shook, "It's not your fault. She's-" He pressed his lips together with a frown. How did he explain Lori Grimes? Even better, how did he explain why it had been so important that Daryl was not seen by her? "Who was calling?" He asked instead. 

Daryl shrugged, but placed Shane's phone on the table. The man walked over, sighing roughly. The station. He called back in and within a few minutes he was being informed that he needed to come into work. Staff was low, and despite this being Shane's day off he was needed.

"Shit," He huffed out when he hung up. "Gotta go to the station. Not sure how long I'll be." He started towards his bedroom before he stopped short, looking at Daryl with a stern gaze. "You're staying here, yeah? You're not in any shape to be walking 'round town or some shit like that."

To his surprise, Daryl said nothing. He was given a set of narrowed eyes before a head nodded. 

 

\---------------

 

"What do ya got for me?" Shane asked, strolling into the dispatch room. 

The woman in front of the computer and phones hummed absently, "We've got a few. Leon's already going to the car accident downtown, so you've got your pick. A dispute between two neighbors, or a noise complaint." 

He bent closer to the computer, his whole demeanor changing once he read the address that he knew so well by now. 

"Gimme the noise complaint." 

Shane was driving towards Will Dixon's house in a matter of minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are love. Thanks all!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You had it all figured out, didn't you?"

Every time Shane closed his eyes he could see Daryl's battered torso. He could see those scars criss crossing on his back. 

His hand tightened on the wheel as he drove towards the Dixon home, his gaze hard and his chest filled with anger. He parked his car, jamming the brakes just a little harder than normal as he stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. The man stayed by his car for a moment longer, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw to try and calm himself. Taking this call had been a bad idea, he knew that. Still, that didn't stop him from marching up the front steps of the house and banging his fist against the door. 

"Police! Open up," He hollered. He heard some shuffling around. He banged his fist at the door again. "Open up!" 

Will Dixon was the type of man that people shielded their children from on the street. The man had shaggy hair that was darker than Daryl's, and a face that looked more like Merle's. His eyes were blue, and his jaw was covered in greying, patchy stubble. He was wearing a dirty white shirt, and holey jeans.

"The fuck do you want?" The man snarled. 

Shane's fists clenched, staring at the man for a moment and saying nothing in return. 

"What the fuck do you want?" The stench of alcohol and marijuana hit Shane full force. 

"Noise complaint." He rested his hands on his belt. "Seem to get a lot of those around here. 'Specially in this house." 

Wills hand came forward, curling against the door frame and Shane's eyes narrowed in on the scabs that were growing on his knuckles. The fire in his chest grew. 

"Don't see why I've gotta explain myself to a pig like you." Will hocked up a glob of spit, spitting it at the officers feet. 

"I'm coming in whether you like it or not. Now back up." With that, Shane shoved his way forward and into the house, muttering into his walkie that he was making entry into the home. 

Will stumbled back before snarling, "What the hell? You can't do that-- Need'a warrant or somethin'." 

Shane huffed out a cruel laugh, "Fuck, if you ain't the stupidest man I've met. I can smell the marijuana, I could see the roach sitting there on the table." He was covered by probable cause, at least for now. After the door shut, his gaze turned even sharper. "You know, you're gonna get locked up for this. And not a damn person in this town is gonna care. Hell, your first boy's already in trouble with the law." 

Will stood to the side, steaming. 

"What, you think Daryl's gonna help you out? After all the shit you've done to him? You think he's gonna waste money on fuckin' scum like you?" 

Will's fists clenched, and a look of surprise seemed to flash over his face for just a moment, clearly shocked at how Shane was addressing his son by his first name. 

Just a little more, Shane thought to himself. "Oh yeah, I know all about Daryl." He couldn't stop himself now, grinning manically and clapping his hands together. "No one in this town is gonna care. It'll be like taking out the garbage, ain't that right?" 

With that, Will sprang.

Shane hit the wall with a thud, pinned against the peeling wall paper. He saw the meaty fist coming his way but he stayed in place. Once he let the man get in a hit or two, Shane shoved him away until he went stumbling to the ground. He let his anger loose. He kept his punches low, mimicking the bruises that Daryl had. He wanted Will to feel that pain. He wanted it to last. He could just keep going, and going, and going, and -- 

"Shane!" His body was dragged backwards by familiar arms. 

"No!" Shane yelled, thrashing in the arms. "Lemme-- Need'a!" 

"Damn it, brother. You need to listen!" It was Rick, because of course it was Rick. He knew that he was done for as Rick pushed him to the side and went on to hand cuff Will. 

Shane stayed sitting there, staring at the carpet as Rick hauled a cursing and kicking Will Dixon out of his home. Eventually Rick came back, standing in front of him. Things were silent before Rick bent down, trying to get eye level with him. 

"Shane," His friend look pained. 

He blinked, staring at him. "Didn't know they pulled you in today," He got out lamely. 

Rick huffed out a near exasperated breath of amusement, "Christ, brother. That's the first thing you have to say?" Then, the look faded. "A few guys called off. They needed another worker." Rick looked down to the ground. "I heard that you'd gone on this call. I couldn't stop myself from coming. I thought something might happen, but.. God, Shane, what were you thinking?" 

About Daryl, his mind supplied. 

He shook his head, "Had probable cause. Saw the roach, could smell it. He came at me first." His brown eyes turned a touch nervous, but they were genuine. "I mean that. I didn't strike at him first." 

Rick stared at him for a long time, lips pressed together. "You had it all figured out, didn't you?" His voice was quiet. 

Shane didn't have to answer. They both knew that he was right. 

 

\---------------

 

The chiefs face stared the two officers down, his ginger mustache nearly twitching in anger. 

Shane stared at the desk instead. 

"Start from the beginning." Rick's mouth opened but Abe cut him off. "Not you. Walsh." 

Shane's eyes scattered up like a wild animals might, staring at the man in front of them. 

"Sir, please," Rick started. 

"Damn it, Grimes. I'm this close to throwing you out of my office and asking him questions alone." Rick quieted quick, sending a pleading look towards Shane. "Now, Walsh. Speak up. I can't get you to shut up and do your work when you're around the office and now your lips are sown shut? Hell, you look more nervous than a whore in church." 

Shane knuckles were red, and his face was aching. 

"Let's start off simple. What were you doing at the Dixon house?" 

He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes. The words in his head felt damning. "Noise complaint. Got into his house when I saw a roach on the table. Could smell it, too." 

"And why didn't you put him in cuffs when you got into the house?" Ford's eyes narrowed.

He faltered, shoulders tensing. 

The cheif sighed, running a hand through his bushy mustach. "Explain what happened next." 

"Dixon struck at me. Got me pinned. I fought back." They were true words, but they still felt damning. 

After a long beat of silence Abe looked towards Rick. "Alright, now you explain to me why the hell you ended up there, too." 

Rick cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "I was called in a few minutes after Shane. Staff was too thin to be in the same car, and I got here after him anyways. Two men called off sick- " 

The police chief sighed, "Get on it with it. I don't need to hear about the doughnuts you had for breakfast, too." 

Rick winced, "I saw that Shane was on his way to the Dixon place. And Sir, we all know the way Will Dixon is. Thought I should check up on him, especially when I heard he was making entry. Shane's telling the truth. The man had him pinned and Shane was fighting back. I pulled him off before any serious damage could happen." 

Shane's eyes slid over, narrowing and wondering why in the hell Rick was covering for him. 

"The evidence?" 

"Bagged up and in the evidence locker. There was more of it all over the house. I collected a few more samples before I came over, saw a needle laying around in the kitchen, too. I know we could've conducted a full search, but I.. Well, I thought it'd be best to get both of them to the station and talk to you first." 

The chief was quiet for a long while, staring the two of them down. "There's something that you're not telling me. Either of you wanna speak up?" 

Shane turned nervous, wondering if Rick was going to let his findings about Daryl spill out. Technically, he would have been considered compromised if Rick decided to say that he was involved with Daryl, and he wouldn't have been allowed to go on the call at all. To his surprise there was silence. 

"Walsh, you're on leave. One week. Get your shit together and do not make me deal with another situation like this again, do you hear me? I want both of your reports on my desk by the end of the day." 

"Leave?" Shane burst. "Ford, you can't be serious-- " 

A growl came from the man, "Keep going and I'll make it two. Get your head on straight and you can come back." 

The two officers quieted, staring at the man. He felt like they were back in high school again and sitting in front of the principle. 

The chief sighed tiredly, "Get out of my damn office." 

The two scrambled. 

 

\---------------

 

Shane found himself in the staff bathroom, washing off his hands and looking at his bruised face that was starting to swell. He glared at his reflection, feeling unhinged. 

The door pushed open and a man in an identical uniform leaned against the sink next to him. The pair stayed quiet, not looking at each other. 

Shane sighed, "You didn't have to do that in there." 

Rick hummed, staring at the bathroom stalls. They were all empty. "I know that." 

"Then why the hell did you?" He spat. 

"Despite what you think I do still care about you." Rick's voice was quiet. 

Shane gripped at the sink, his fingers curling around the edges. He stared into the water that was slowly swirling down the drain. "Don't know what to think anymore," He muttered honestly. "Lori stopped by the other day." 

He didn't know why he was bringing it up. It felt risky, especially if Lori had mentioned who she'd seen at the home. He guessed that she hadn't since the others face showed surprise. 

"She did?" 

"Hm," His head nodded. 

"What'd she say?" 

"Said that she knew something was wrong. Said that," He hesitated on the next part. "Said that you could use a friend." His gaze turned to Rick, looking at him questioningly. 

Rick's expression fell, and the man stared down at the bathroom floor, his fingers coming to twist at his wedding ring. "A few weeks ago I.. " He brought a hand up, running it through his curls. "I found out Lori's been talking to a divorce lawyer." 

Shane's eyes widened, staring at the man. The two words seemed to hang between them, suspended in the air and suffocating the atmosphere around them. "How-- Why would she -- " The mere thought of Lori and Rick getting into a serious fight was surprising enough. But a divorce lawyer? 

Rick's lips pressed together. "We've been fighting for awhile. Not sure what's gonna happen, but I just know that she's thinking about it." 

The two straightened up, staring at each other. Just a few weeks ago everything had been so different. 

"Shit," He murmured. "When did everything get so.. " 

Rick huffed out a slight laugh, though it was strained. Everything about the conversation was strained. "Messed up?" 

"Was gonna say different." In his mind, Daryl wasn't messed up. Maybe his feelings for the teen were messed up, but he couldn't project that onto Daryl. 

Behind them the door opened and a man went into one of the stalls. 

Shane cleared his throat, gaining his composure. "Need to get that report done." 

The other officer nodded, "Me too." 

 

\---------------

 

Shane didn't go straight back to his house. After his report was done he sat in his car and closed his eyes. What the hell had he done? He didn't regret it, though he wasn't sure if he was ready to face Daryl quite yet. 

The man drove around the town for a little while, trying to sort out his thoughts. The drive wasn't successful for much other than wasting his gas and eventually he drove back to his house. He got into the home and it was quiet. He leaned against the door, eyes roaming over the entrance. 

After a moment or two Daryl walked out, very much like the way he'd done that morning. 

The teen's expression dropped when he saw Shane's face. "What the hell happened?" Daryl was still walking slightly hunched over on one side and didn't look incredibly steady but Shane could see genuine worry in his eyes. 

The man didn't say anything in response, he just stared.

Daryl must have seen something in his expression because his own shifted, as did his questioning. "What the fuck did you do?" Still, he couldn't answer. "Shane, what the fuck did you do?" The other walked towards him, his face shifting into near panic. 

"Was a noise complaint. At your place." He knew that Daryl could fill in the rest. 

All of a sudden Daryl was there, his fingers locking against Shane's arms and pushing him against the door. "What the fuck did you do?" He repeated. "I didn't ask you to do that, you shouldn't have done that-- What the fuck did you do?" His voice was getting louder, and laced with more panic. 

Shane let himself be pushed against the door, staring down at Daryl. "Did what I needed," His jaw clenched. 

"No! No you didn't! You shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have- " A frustrated noise slipped from Daryl's mouth and he seemed to crumple, his grip on Shane's arms turning urgent this time as his body swayed. 

The mans hands settled on Daryl's sides and he sucked in a shaky breath, "You need to sit down." 

Another frustrated noise slipped from Daryl's lips and his head tipped forward, pressing against Shane's chest. "Fuck." 

Shane hesitated a moment before wrapping his arms around Daryl, one hand lacing into the youngers hair and his other staying on his back. His nerves felt raw, but Daryl was a soothing weight against his body. His grip tightened and he pressed closer. 

They stayed at the door, crumpled against one another as the days events washed over them.

 

\---------------

 

The rest of the day seemed stilted and off. 

Shane wasn't sure if Daryl was angry with him or not. After he'd told him the full events of the day Daryl had quieted for a long while. Even now, Daryl was quiet. Quiet didn't mean mad, but it unsettled him either way. 

The younger had forced him to sit down, touching at the marks on his face with surprisingly gentle fingers until he was satisfied and he had done the same, checking over Daryl's bruised ribs. 

His eyes flit over to the side, noticing the time. The clock showed that it was getting late. Shane wasn't hungry, but one look at Daryl's thin frame had his decision made. "Need to eat something for dinner." He walked towards the kitchen and looked through the plethora of take out menu's on his kitchen counter. 

"Not hungry," Came Daryl's predictable response. 

He ignored the words, "Maybe pizza." 

However the thought of seeing someone that he knew was too much for the moment. He didn't want to see Glenn, even with how nice he was. He didn't want to see any of the regular delivery people. He didn't want stares at his bruised face, and he didn't want to have to come up with a lie when asked about it. The town felt suffocating. 

His fingers drummed at the counter. "C'mon, get dressed." 

Daryl's head jerked up with a frown. 

"Change into your jeans from the night before. Didn't wash your shirt, yet. You can borrow one of mine." 

"And where the hell are we going?" 

It was comforting to see Daryl's fire coming back. "Out of town." 

Ten minutes later Shane was walking out to his Jeep with Daryl, keeping an eye on the other in case he seemed to be walking funny. True to his word he drove them out of town. Once they were two towns away, they both seemed to relax. 

"Where're we going?" Daryl's voice didn't seem suspicious anymore as he sat in the passenger seat, wearing one of Shane's shirts that he'd dug up from his high school days. It fit Daryl much better than his others had even if it was still a little big in the arms.

"Don't know." Shane's shoulders shrugged. 

Daryl seemed content with the answer and they both settled into another bout of comfortable silence as the radio played, filling the space between them. 

Eventually the officer pulled into a diner. It looked a bit run down, but not too bad. It had the look of an older setting. Black and white tiling, red booth seats. The two received looks from the other customers as they settled in their seats, all peering at the man with a bruised face and the other with a crooked walk, though after a few minutes the looks stopped. 

"You know," Shane spoke up when they got their food. "I got put on leave for about a week." 

Daryl cocked a brow, huffing and shaking his head. "Dumb shit." 

Shane's lips quirked up, looking down at his burger and fries. "You're gonna have to get used to me being around more. You think you can handle that?" 

"Not gonna be around all the time. Have other stuff to do." 

His eyes narrowed, hungry to learn about all of the aspects of Daryl's life. "Like what?" 

"You're too damn nosy for your own good, Walsh." 

Shane gave a small grin, shaking his head. "You told me awhile ago that you could handle me." 

Daryl's eyes flashed with a challenge, his lips smirking. "Still can." 

With that the two settled back into their meals, dipping their fries in their milkshakes and sitting across from each other with their feet tangled intimately under the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are love. Let me know what you thought! Thanks all!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No! It matters. God, of course it matters!"

That night they'd fallen asleep the same way that they had the night before. Shane had used the flimsy excuse of wanting Daryl more comfortable in his bed, and Daryl used the even flimsier excuse that Shane shouldn't be kicked out of his own bed. They fell asleep apart, both on their separate sides of the bed but during the night they'd gravitated towards each other. 

Despite the satisfaction that had come with laying his fists against Daryl's terrorizer, there was something else.. Something bitter and disappointed, because he knew that his fists couldn't solve everything, and they hadn't. Still, Daryl being close shut his mind off partially. 

When he woke up the next morning they were in a similar position from the morning before. Their bodies were flush together. Shane's chest was pressed against the back of the younger and his face had sought out the same spot as well. His nose nudged against the back of Daryl's neck, and he noted how their legs were tangled together this time. Everything felt so much closer. 

His mind drifted away for a few moments, angered at how thrown off at this he was. Of course he'd fallen asleep with someone before, but this was completely different. Every other time that he'd fallen asleep with another, there had been sex involved. There had always been the knowledge that by morning he should be gone, and it certainly had never happened in his own bed. 

But Daryl was here. In his bed, sleeping in his arms. He found himself struggling to comprehend. 

The man gave a light jolt as he was snapped back to the present when the body in his arms moved. The teen made a small noise, an incoherent mumble and shifted in his arms until he was facing Shane. He froze, watching, but Daryl stayed asleep. After a moment he blew out a breath and took the opportunity to look over the other. His choppy, blonde locks were mused. His cheeks were just the slightest bit pink from sleep, and his eyes lingered on the little beauty mark. 

Shane closed his eyes, and let himself have this for a few moments. He smoothed a hand up Daryl's side, and back down again. He repeated the motion until he was satisfied, enjoying the simple touch. Eventually he felt a nose nudging at his chest, and his lungs seemed to constrict. 

Five minutes later Shane peeled himself away and went off to take a shower.

 

\---------------

 

That morning things still felt off. Shane knew that the other wasn't the happiest with him after the stunt that he'd pulled, but Daryl was still there, and that had to mean something. They ate breakfast together, Daryl in a t-shirt and boxers while Shane sat across from him in a pair of sweats. 

"You shouldn't get up so fast," Shane finally broke the silence as he watched Daryl stand far too quickly, swaying on the spot. 

"I'm fine," Daryl huffed. 

"No. You're not." 

With that he got up, closing the distance between them. His large hands closed against Daryl's forearms, steadying him before giving a questioning look. After a beat Daryl nodded his head. He rucked up the others shirt, letting go of his arms in favor of ghosting his fingertips against the purpling skin on Daryl's stomach. 

The rage was still there, though it was more distant. It was easier to think today. The mans eyes flickered up, watching how Daryl was averting his gaze, and how his breathing was more shallow. Shane swallowed roughly, splaying his fingers out until his whole hand was pressed gently against Daryl's skin. Their gazes snapped together, both breathing a bit harder but neither of them moved until Shane withdrew his hand. 

"Think you should be good 'long as you don't strain yourself too much." He couldn't stop the next words that tumbled from his mouth. He was hungry to know more about Daryl's personal life. It was like that itch all over again, and he wasn't sure this one would be sated so easily. "Where're you gonna go today?"

The teen huffed out a near amused breath, "Thought you gave up on questions." 

"Never." 

Daryl sighed, "Job. Work at Dale's, you know that." 

His eyes narrowed, "That all you're doing?" 

Daryl's eyes narrowed right back, holding his gaze before he gave up after a few moments and looked away. "Need to go home." 

Shane blinked, "You need to do what?" 

"Need to go home." 

"No-- I heard, I heard what you said." He huffed, growing uneasy with the answer that he'd been given. "The hell do you need to go back there for?" 

Daryl took a step back, face guarded. "The hell do you think?" He snapped, defensive. "Can't stay here forever. It's my house. All my shit's there." 

Shane huffed out another breath, angry like a bull. "That's not what I'm saying." His head shook, stepping away. "There's nothing there for ya. You don't need to go back there," His tone was getting more strained and defensive as well. 

Daryl's voice raised. "The hell are you trying to stay?" 

His shoulders tensed, and he fell silent. He knew what he wanted to say, or at least he knew what he wanted. Saying that was a different beast altogether. 

"Stay here," The words were blurted out without thought. He breathed in deeply, his chest falling and rising. "Stay here," His voice dipped into a softer tone. "Don't.. You don't have to leave." 

Silence followed the offer, until Daryl looked to the ground. "Doesn't change the fact that I have to get my shit from there." 

Shane's face pulled into a strained smiled, "I can go with ya. I've got a whole lott'a time on my hands now, remember?" 

"Dumb shit," Daryl murmured in an echo of last night. 

"That a yes?" His eyes were a touch hopeful. 

Daryl nodded, and that was that.

 

\---------------

 

Shane was left by himself a few hours later. He'd bugged the teen enough to let him give him a ride to Dale's, despite protests about being able to walk. Still, he'd listened when Daryl had nervously asked him to drop him off a block away from the garage. 

And now he was here. On his couch. 

The man gave a long sigh, looking around the room. He'd never been on leave before, and he'd never exactly had a bunch of time off. He had no idea what to do with himself. It was too early to drink beer, but too late in the day to fall back asleep. After watching one too many reruns of an old western show, he heaved himself up into a sitting position and looked around. 

His eyes scanned the house, noticing every flaw. Leaky sink, loose doorknob, the cabinet that didn't close quite right. After a moment of thought he nodded to himself, and pushed himself off the couch.

A few hours later Shane's hair was damp with sweat, and he thought that the house was in a far better shape than what it had been. The man was under the sink when the phone rang. He jolted up, hitting his bruised face against the piping. 

"Fuck," He cursed. Pushing himself out from under the sink, he straightened up and when towards his cell. He picked it up, staring at the screen. 

Rick Grimes. 

He'd assigned a picture to Rick's name any time the man called, and his screen now showed the pair of them at a bar from a few years ago. Their arms were slung over each others shoulders and they both had a beer in each free hand, grinning at the camera. 

Shane didn't answer, and instead found himself staring at the picture for as long as the ringing went on. His fingers twitched at the side of the phone, close to the call icon before he shut the screen off quick and tossed it away before he could change his mind. 

The day went slowly after that, but in a maddening way. He was no longer wanting to continue fixing the house, but instead could only think about the call. Rick hadn't left a message or a text, leaving him wondering what he'd wanted. Still, he didn't allow himself to call the other back. 

Eventually he found other things to focus on, like picking Daryl up. 

Time seemed to move quicker when he was in the others presence. It was easy to get lost in Daryl, staring at his lips, or keeping himself in check so that he didn't reach out and touch the other. He found a comforting routine in the other already. They would eat dinner together, watch TV, and go to sleep together. It may sound boring from an outsiders perspective but it was a welcome change from the binge of bars that he used to have a habit of going to. 

Rick called a second time that day, but when they were sitting on the couch instead. They both had a beer in their hands, and their sides were brushing against each others. The phone rang loudly from the coffee table in from of them. Shane looked at it sharply, noting Rick's icon popping up. The teen beside him looked, and then glanced back at Shane with his brow drawn, obviously confused about why Shane wasn't answering the phone. 

"You gonna answer that?" 

"No." He took a swig of his beer. 

"It's Grimes." 

Shane kept his eyes on the TV, ignoring the gaze burning into him. "I know." The phone went silent, as did the pair for a few moments. 

"You gonna tell me what's up with you two?" 

He huffed out a breath, lips quirking just slightly as he looked over at the other. "What, I can't ask question but you can?" 

"Sounds about right," Came a short reply, along with a smirk. 

Shane gave a half chuckle, though the look slipped off his face as his phone beeped, alerting him that he had a voicemail. "He's my brother," He got out after a moment, staring at the phone. 

"Then why are you avoiding him?" 

His fingers twitched against his beer nervously, still staring at the phone who's screen had turned black now. "It's complicated." 

Daryl huffed, "Bull shit. That's what people say when they know exactly what's wrong." 

Shane leaned forward, setting his beer on the table and set his elbows on his knees as well. "Me and him.. We've known each other for a long time. Damn long time. Just starting to wonder if we don't know each other as well as I thought." 

Daryl was quiet for a moment, staring at Shane. "You gonna call him back?" 

Shane reached for the phone but his hand stopped short. "Dunno, it's the second time he's called." 

"I have a feeling he's not gonna be giving up anytime soon." Daryl held a steady gaze on him. 

He sighed roughly, looking back at the other. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"I'll call him later. Need another beer in me first." With that he got up, walking to the kitchen. 

"You get me one, too?" 

"Not sure, did you have three birthdays that I've missed?" He smiled to himself and looking back, seeing a similar look on Daryl's face. 

"Told you, I can drink you under the table any day." 

Shane snatched up two beers since he didn't think two beers would be horrible. Besides, Daryl was safe here. With him. "Not gonna test that out. This is the last one, you hear me?" 

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya, Officer." 

When he sat down Daryl pressed their shoulders together, and Shane found it easier to breathe.

 

\----------------

 

They ended up sharing the bed again. Daryl had offered to take the couch, but Shane had snapped at him about his ribs, and Daryl had snapped at him about stealing his bed, and the decision was made. 

Still, they kept separate and sometime during the night their bodies melded together. Layers had been shed and Shane was only in his briefs, while Daryl was in boxers and a t-shirt. Again, it felt far too intimate. So much more than all of the other experiences in his life that were supposed to be intimate moments but had been morphed into selfish fucks, and limited time with a partner before moving to the next. 

This was a closeness that he hadn't experienced before. This was a want that he couldn't let himself have. It was warmth. 

The morning that he woke, he was warm. His body was filled with it, the feeling spreading from his chest down to his groin. He hummed, eyes still closed, and his awareness of the world gone. His arm tightened around a body, dragging it closer. He was hard in his underwear, and he gave a sleepy groan when he brushed against something. Moving on instinct he thrust his hips sleepily, lazily grinding his cock against the body that was next to his. 

And then he heard it. It was small, breathy, and wanting. It sounded like a gasp, but he could recognize who it was coming from. The man's eyes popped open, and dread filled him. He was fully hard in his underwear and he'd been-- He couldn't allow himself to think of it, especially when Daryl was sporting a similar situation. 

Much like the morning before Shane got out of bed as fast as he could and high tailed it to the shower, with much more guilt in him than last time. 

Want was pulsing through his body, and as soon as he was in the safety of his shower he grabbed himself, jerking off quick and fast, imagines of blue eyes and the memory of Daryl being so close still playing in his mind. 

When he was done he felt breathless, sagged against a shower wall with his eyes closed. Shame made his shoulders heavy when he got out of the shower, a bit more dressed now as he looked at the sleeping form. He could feel himself closing off, his mind setting off alarm bells. And he knew that it wasn't fair to Daryl, but he couldn't stop the silence that he'd taken on. 

Their morning was quick and quiet, with Shane avoiding Daryl's gaze and the younger sending him looks all morning long. When he dropped Daryl off, he left him with a, "We'll get your stuff tonight. After you get off work." 

With that, he was gone.

 

\---------------

 

Shane sat in his Jeep later that day, waiting for Daryl to walk around the corner and get in. When Daryl came he was more closed off as well, but Shane didn't think it had to do with the morning. Instead, he watched as Daryl fell completely silent and turned far more tense as he drove off towards the Dixon house. When they arrived Daryl's hands were in fists and he was staring at his lap. 

He seemed much younger in that moment, looking like a scared child that was trying to put up a tough front. 

Shane's heart ached, "Hey, we don't have to do this tonight if you don't wanna." 

Daryl looked up, staring at the house. "Gotta," And he hopped out of the car. 

After Shane sighed, he followed after. 

Coming into the Dixon house was a different experience than before. When he'd been here a few days ago he'd been focused on Will Dixon. His rage had consumed him, and that'd been all that he could think of. Now it was different. His head was clearer, and his eyes were able to see so much more because of it. He didn't want to touch anything. Everything seemed to be sticky, or had some residue on it. The furniture was a bit moved around from the police search, but the disheveled look fit the home, and was already like that in several other places. 

Daryl was walking off towards a hallway, and Shane followed. The smell in the home was overpowering, and would make many choke but he breathed through his mouth and followed. Daryl was in the furthest back room, and what seemed to be the smallest. The mattress was set on the floor with one blanket on it, and the walls had holes and dents in it from what looked like fists. 

The rage flared in his chest, threatening to make another appearance, but he pushed it down quick. Getting angry wouldn't do Daryl any good, especially when the teen's face looked paler than normal. 

Daryl snatched up a backpack, and opened up a worn looking set of drawers, stuffing clothes and other items inside. Shane stood there, watching, before turning and venturing into the room across the hall. 

A bathroom. A stronger stench hit him, nearly making him choke. Stale urine was in the toilet, and most likely had been there for days now. The shower had mold around the sealing, and the sink had a continuous drip. 

When he shut the door and turned back, Daryl was there and clutching something against his chest. "Shit," He breathed out. "That a crossbow?" 

Daryl held it tight, as if he was afraid that Shane would take it away. "Merle gave it to me when I was younger." 

"Never knew you hunted." 

Daryl's shoulders shrugged, "Had to. Ended up liking it." 

The words made Shane's gut twist, thinking of a kid running through these halls and being told to go out and hunt for food because there wasn't anything in the fridge. Then, if it was possible, Daryl turned even more tense as a set of head lights shined through the window. 

"Fuck," He breathed out, racing to one side of the home to look. 

"Who is it?" Shane asked, shoulders already squared and walked towards the door. 

Daryl stopped him, pushing him back, dropping his bags and crossbow. "You gotta get out of here-- Get in the back room, something." 

"Fuck that," He scowled. "Who is it?" 

"Shane, I ain't kidding. Move!" 

"Told you already, no. You think I'm gonna leave you here like that?" 

"Dixon!" 

They both froze at the voice, and Shane moved around Daryl, walking towards the door when it was suddenly pushed open. Caesar Martinez was on the other side. 

Shane immediately glared, standing a step in front of Daryl. "The hell are you doing here?" 

Martinez squinted his eyes, but didn't address Shane. "Who the hell's this?" 

Daryl sighed roughly. "Forget about it. What do you want? The hell are you here for?" 

Martinez's hands came up in a mock surrender, "Heard about Will. Wanted to stop by, make sure you weren't passed out in a puddle of your own vomit." 

Daryl's expression softened. 

"He's fine," Came Shane's rough reply but Martinez still wouldn't pay attention to him other than an amused glance, and it angered him endlessly. 

"I'm fine," The youngest of the three spoke up.

"Even with Merle's dealers breathing down your neck?" 

Daryl paled, and Shane burst. "The fuck do you mean?" 

Finally Martinez looked at him, his expression gleeful. "What, he didn't tell you? Little Dixon's taking on his big brothers debts. Can't say I agree with it myself, but it's gotta be paid." 

"Martinez," Daryl growled. 

Shane rounded at Daryl, eyes sharp. "That's where your money's been going? You've been paying off Merle's dealers?" 

Daryl didn't look at him, and continued to glare at Martinez. "Needs to be paid. Falls onto me to do it." 

"Bull shit it does. He got himself into that. It shouldn't involve you at all," Shane's tone got louder. "All the money you get from the garage, that's where you've been putting it?" 

Martinez smirked, "How else would you want him to pay?" His gaze turned dark, but his lips were still smirking. "There's other ways he could pay. Without money. Ways I'm sure they wouldn't mind." His implication was clear, and his leering look at Daryl confirmed it. 

"You son of a bitch," Shane snarled before he tackled the man, pushing him up against the wall with a thick forearm pressing against his throat. 

"Shane!" Daryl cried out, pulling at the man. 

Martinez grinned, wheezing. "W-- What? That get under your skin, O-Officer? Maybe you want a piece for yourself, is that --that it?" 

Daryl shoved himself between the two, pushing Shane away. Immediately the younger was placing hands at his chest. "Fuckin' stop," His voice was desperate. "Stop, Shane. God damn it. Look at me." The man looked down, staring at Daryl and swallowing roughly. He let himself be pulled into those desperate looking blue eyes, his heart still racing and his body still ready to pounce. 

Daryl turned, "Get the fuck out of here. I mean it." 

The three stared at each other, before eventually Martinez left. Silence followed after, the two of them breathing roughly. 

"Shit," Shane huffed. "We're leaving." His voice was firm as he scooped up Daryl's belongings. 

Once in the car Shane drove fast, irritated. 

"Shane," Daryl tried. 

He didn't respond. 

"Shane," He tried again. "Martinez.. He's not a bad guy. He only said that shit 'cause he knew it'd get to you." 

"Doesn't matter." 

"Shane," Daryl sighed.

The man slammed on the breaks and whipped the car to the side of the road, "No! It matters. God, of course it matters!" 

"I'm almost done with it, I -- " 

"No! You shouldn't have to be doing that in the first place." 

"Why the hell do you care?" Daryl finally snapped. 

"Because I care about you, damn it!" 

Both their chests were heaving from yelling, and they were staring at each other in the wake of Shane's confession. Everything was bubbling to the top, and he didn't know how to stop it. He didn't know if he wanted to stop it. 

Shane stared at Daryl, blinked once, and moved. His hands framed Daryl's face before he pushed forward and slotted their lips together. Relief flooded his body when hands scrabbled for a hold in his hair, and Daryl kissed him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Had technical difficulties, and most likely will continue to.
> 
> Kudos and comments are love, thanks all!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're gonna figure this out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Mentions of a sex with a minor (16 years old)

Daryl's lips were soft, and clumsy against his own. 

Distantly Shane wondered how much experience Daryl had in kissing people, knowing that it must have been hard making friends let alone getting involved in intimate relationships with the last name Dixon. The thoughts were quickly brushed aside as Daryl pulled back a fraction. 

The only sound in the car was their breathing, but Shane swore that his heart pounding was loud enough to be heard as well. They stared at each other for a moment, no more than an inch or two apart. After a minute had passed Daryl was the one this time to lean forward, and Shane's heart nearly burst. The kisses were shallow, but lingering. 

These kisses were different from what he was used to. They felt like they meant something. 

Shane wasn't sure how long they stayed in his car, but he knew that it was easy to lose track of time with Daryl's hands tangled in his hair and their lips pressed together. After awhile he pulled away, remembering where they were. They were out in the open. In a car, but anyone could see what they were doing. 

"Let's get back." 

Daryl gave a hum, and they fell into silence. This silence was comfortable, but Shane still felt like he was buzzing. He was nearly vibrating in his seat. He reached over, laying a hand over Daryl's wrist. His fingers crept up on Daryl's palm, and his thumb swiped at the youngers wrist as he drove while Daryl's fingers curled over his own. 

Once they were inside the house they stood near the door, staring at each other again. They had a million things to worry about now, but Shane found that he couldn't focus on anything other than the way Daryl's lips looked pink. He walked closer, keys tossed to the side. His hands tilted Daryl's head up, his heart beating loudly once again. 

"Daryl," He breathed out, leaning down to nudge their noses together. The action even surprised himself with the tenderness of it. Daryl's arms wrapped low around his waist, his nervous fingers knotting into the mans shirt. 

Daryl's mouth opened to speak, when a ring tone cut them off. Shane huffed out a breath, half irritated and half amused. He removed one of his hands, fishing his phone out of his pocket. 

Rick's name stared right back at him. 

"You didn't call him back," Daryl spoke. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. 

Shane shook his head and silenced the phone, placing it on a nearby table. "I can do it later. Got more important things to do." The teen's cheeks warmed, and Shane's eyes were attracted to it, wanting to see more of the blush. "Besides, I don't think he'd look too kindly on what we're doing right now." 

Daryl's brow cocked, looking at him questioningly with the want for an explanation but Shane didn't have one. Or rather, he didn't want to explain it. And thinking back on it, Rick had never said that he didn't approve of same sex relationships, but the experience from that one night in high school was enough to make him ignore the call. 

"C'mon," He requested, pulling away and tugging at Daryl's wrist. 

The two ended up in Shane's room not too long later, both still quiet but sending each other glances. Neither of them spoke about how they'd been kissing only minutes ago, but neither of them were the type to talk about their feelings. Their actions spoke much louder than anything conversation would have. 

The kept gazes one each other as Shane stripped down to his usual bed time attire, and Daryl shucked off his jeans. The pair ended up in the bed together, both laying on their sides. 

Shane didn't expect sex from this, and that in itself was new. For him kissing had always led to something. It had never just been kissing for the sake of kissing. But this was different, and he found himself content with it. 

"Lemme ask you something," Shane hadn't hesitated in bringing Daryl closer. "Was that your first kiss?" 

Daryl's body went tense, "No." His voice was defensive. 

"Hey, hey," Shane's lips quirked up. "I'm not making fun. Just wanna know." 

"Wasn't my first kiss," He finally spoke. "Just.. Ain't kissed anyone in awhile." 

"Yeah?" He prompted. 

Daryl hummed, looking down. "First kiss was when I was in middle school. Was a bet. Some girl got a few bucks from her friends for kissing me. Saw her wipe her lips after, complaining that she had Dixon germs on her." 

Shane's smile dropped, and he swallowed hard. He didn't want to imagine what growing up a Dixon had meant in this town. "I don't mind Dixon germs."

Daryl's head jerked up, eyes narrowed. 

"Well, maybe not all Dixons. Don't mind yours." It was supposed to be said lightly, as a joke, but he couldn't stop the sincere tone that flowed out of him. Still, Daryl's gaze dropped. 

Even though the answer hadn't been much, he could assume. He could assume that if Daryl had experienced other kissing, it hadn't been much. He also knew that Daryl most likely didn't have much experience beyond kissing. A deep, darker, possessive part of himself warmed at that thought. However, he knew that it he needed to balance this out. 

"I've never done this," Shane started after a moment. He could feel Daryl's questioning gaze on him. "I've never had something that.. That meant something." 

Over the years he'd had a litany of girls that had never amounted to anything. The habit had grown in high school, and it never stopped after that. 

He could remember messing around with a girl behind the bleachers after a football game. They hadn't spoken to each other after that. He could remember fucking his gym teacher in her car, watching her wedding ring glint in the sun light that had been pouring through the windows as she rode him. The woman never spoke to him much other than the occasional smirk, but he strongly suspected that she'd given him good grades on his homework even when he hadn't deserved it. 

Of course some girls wanted something more, but it never felt right. It never felt comfortable. It always felt like too much.

Then he could remember a boy at a high school party with brown curly hair and blue eyes. He could nearly hear his own voice now, speaking surely about his love for the other teen and trying to kiss him. Then, he remembered himself panicking and slurring his voice, claiming that he was drunk and that he didn't know what he was talking about as he stumbled away from his best friend once he realized that the feelings were not matched.

It felt like he'd been walking away ever since.

He had only kissed Daryl, but yet he knew. He knew that this was different. 

The teen blinked, staring. "This mean something to you?" 

He hummed, his eyes finally meeting Daryl's. He nodded once, his eyes asking Daryl the same question. He received a nod in return.

In the darkness of his bedroom a smile sprouted over Shane's lips, and he watched as another curled against Daryl's lips. Like this it was easy to forget about the rest of the world. It was easy to forget about Merle's dealers, or the Grimes family as a whole, or the whole damned town. 

For now he leaned forward and captured Daryl's lips again. After a moment or two his tongue came out, swiping across Daryl's bottom lip. The younger gave a small gasp as Shane slipped his tongue inside, lazily rolling it against Daryl's. 

It would be easy to go for more. It would be easy with the way Daryl was so receptive to his touch. The other was arching against his hands, and his kisses were clumsy but eager. It would be easy to press Daryl against the mattress and ask for more, but he had to remind himself that this meant something. This meant something to him, and for the first time he didn't want to push. Instead, he wanted to wait. It felt right to wait. 

The man forced himself to stop his litany of kisses that he was pressing down Daryl's throat, feeling drunk on the whimpers that he was earning. He pressed his forehead against Daryl's chest, anchored on the feeling of fingers brushing through his hair. 

"We're gonna figure this out," He breathed out after a moment or two. "We're gonna figure this out." 

When he looked up Daryl's eyes looked doubtful. "Shane.. " 

The man pulled his head back, shaking it. "No. We're gonna figure this out." He pressed their foreheads together, falling asleep minutes later to the feeling of Daryl's hands clenching in his t-shirt. 

 

\---------------

 

Shane woke up once early in the morning. It was so early that the sun wasn't out, and the world was still quiet around them. His arm was slung over Daryl's middle, keeping the younger tight against his body. This time, he didn't move away. This time he let himself stay close. It was odd, being able to do this. It was odd that he was allowed to do this.

Part of his mind was still asking him what the hell he was doing, or what he thought was going to come of this but hearing Daryl's light breaths quieted his mind. The man pressed a kiss to the others neck before his eyes closed, and he fell back asleep. 

Across the house Shane's phone laid, put on silent but the with the screen flashing.

 

\---------------

 

When Shane woke up next he was alone. He frowned, reaching across to where Daryl had been laying the night before. Empty. A dread filled him, panicky and desperate as he wondered if Daryl had left for good. He'd never been the one left behind in the mornings, and they hadn't had sex, but he still couldn't stop the worry. He pushed himself off the bed far too quickly, swaying in his spot before he went towards his door. 

And that's when he heard it. Voices. 

He nearly burst out of the room to see who the fuck was in his house before he stopped right as he opened the door. He knew those voices. One was talking more than the other, and the other was quieter with the occasional grunt. 

His heart plummeted to his feet, unsure of what to do. He hadn't wanted them to meet. He'd wanted the two to stay far, far away from each other. Daryl was a part of his life that felt like a secret, but in the best of ways. The possessive part of him clawed at the thought, wanting to keep Daryl all to himself, but he couldn't. It was ruined now. Rick was here, and he was speaking to him. Barging in right now wouldn't change that.

"I came to check up on him," Rick's voice spoke, being heard clearly through the small house. "I called him a few times, left a message or two. Texted. He didn't answer any of them."

"He got 'em," Came Daryl's voice. 

Rick's sigh was loud, sounding exhausted and disappointed. "I didn't come here trying to snoop around. I didn't.. Wasn't expecting you to be here. Or, hell, maybe a part of me did." 

"You find what you were looking for?" 

"Don't know what I was looking for in the first place," Rick's voice was quieter now, too, and Shane had to strain to hear. "He got put on leave, though I'm sure he already told you that." Another sigh. "Me and him.. We haven't been on the best of terms lately, but I still wanted to make sure he was alright." 

Shane could only hear a slight noise, and he imagined that Daryl had hummed or grunted. 

"I'm worried. I know that maybe it's coming out the wrong way, but I'm worried. About him. About you." 

"Don't need your worry, Officer," The teen's voice was laced with a bit of a bite.

"This is all coming out wrong. Look, I've known him for a long time. I know how he is, and I just want to help." 

"By doing what?" Daryl's voice was louder now. "Don't know what the hell went on with you two, but I can see the way he shuts down when you call. Can see the way he tenses up. He's not doing shit wrong." 

Silence followed those words, and neither of the two spoke. Shane's hand was grasping the doorway so hard that his knuckles were white, trying to stop himself from going over there right now. 

"I'm sorry, for a lot of things that've been happening. For a lot of things that I've been saying. It's.. Things are different now, and I guess I'm just having trouble adjusting to it."

"Ain't me that you need to be saying this to, Officer." 

More silence stretched out between the pair before Rick spoke, "I'll get out of your hair now. I'm sorry for barging in like that. Didn't expect him to have any guests." He could nearly feel the hesitation. "Are you staying here?" 

The teen also hesitated before he answered, "I.. Yeah, I think." 

"And Shane and you are.. " 

Silence, for nearly a minute after that. 

"I think it's best if you get to leaving. Unless you wanna wait till he gets up." 

Rick spoke something that Shane couldn't quite hear and the man backed up into his room as he heard footsteps coming back towards the front of the house. He sank against the wall, a blank expression on his face as he listened to muted goodbyes, and soon enough the door opened and shut. The man stayed put even when he heard foot steps coming near the door, knowing that Daryl was walking towards him. 

The teen didn't seem surprised to see him up. He only leaned against the doorway, looking down at Shane with furrowed brows and a slight frown on his face. 

"You knew I was up," Shane spoke after a moment or two. 

Daryl hummed, "Heard the door open. Rick didn't notice it." 

"What'd he want?" His voice was calm, but his insides were churning with the need to know everything from start to the beginning. "How.. " 

Thankfully, Daryl seemed to understand. "Woke up when I heard the front door opening, and someone started calling your name." 

He huffed out a near hysteric breath, pushing a hand through his hair. "Shit, I forgot he has a key."

"Got out'a bed, went to check it out. Didn't know it was him till I saw him." Daryl shifted so that he was into the room more, standing in front of the man on the ground. "Didn't know what to say. Neither of us did, but after he got started.. Hell, he sure didn't stop. He asked a lot of questions. About you, about the funny way I was walking." Then Daryl's expression soured. "He talked to me 'bout Merle. My dad." 

Shane looked up, brow raised. 

"My dad's going away for a long time. That's what he said. Said he don't know about Merle, but that it didn't look good." Daryl bit the inside of his cheek, looking to the ground. "Tried telling me all 'bout how you baited him. Said that I should know the truth." 

"I did," There was no point in lying. "I baited him. Wanted to put him away. Not apologizing for that." 

Daryl huffed, "Figured." Then his expression turned a touch nervous. "Should I have woken you up?" 

Shane's head shook and before he could stop himself he was reaching up and gently tugging Daryl to sit in his lap. The other seemed unfamiliar with the position, and unsure of where to put his hands. 

"Like this," He spoke, snatching up Daryl's hands in his own before settling them on his shoulders. "Didn't want you dealing with that. Didn't want you talking to him." 

"Ain't no changing it now." His body finally started to relax into the position, his head tipping down. 

Shane pressed his own forehead against Daryl's, and he closed his eyes. His hands slid down to the others hips, and he fit their lips together in a kiss. His grip tightened when he deepened the kiss, and he allowed himself to get lost in the sensation for as long as he dared. 

 

\-------------

 

Shane drove Daryl to work that day, still parking a block away. Before Daryl could leave, he spoke up. "Wait up." 

Daryl turned to him, brow furrowed.

"What happened last night.. With Martinez. What he said- " His jaw clenched and he looked at their surroundings. "Pretty sure you've figured it out by now but I can't let that go." 

"Shane," Daryl sighed out. "Not asking you to get involved with that. I'm telling to stay out of it, and I mean that." He looked at Shane, eyes urgent. "You hear what I'm saying?" 

He hummed, "I hear it alright, but I'm not seeing the reason in it." 

"Don't give a shit if you see reason or not. I'm asking you to stay out of it." 

Shane's brow cocked, "Christ, someone's getting a little bossy, ain't they?" 

Daryl's glare stayed, "I mean it. You're not getting involved." 

The man could only roll his eyes like a petulant teen, "Yeah, and I mean it too. Could tell you that I'll stay out of it, if that's what you're wanting to hear, but we both know I'd be lying." 

The teen made a frustrated noise, "You don't get it! These.. Shit, these guys are dangerous." 

"Even more reason I should be getting involved." 

Daryl's eyes turned a touch desperate, and Shane was caught off by the pleading look. The panic that he could spot in the gaze. "No! I've been handling them just fine without ya. You're not getting into it." 

Shane's lip curled, "And I'm saying that you're not handling it anymore. Don't give a shit if it's been fine before, I'm saying that it's not fine now."

Their glares were both fierce, and determined. Shane couldn't handle Daryl staying involved, and Daryl couldn't handle Shane getting involved. 

The other's head dropped, and he looked towards his lap. "I just need to end. And I can make that happen. Not you. Know you're trying to help, but you can't." 

Shane knew that it was pointless in arguing. They were both far too stubborn to let go of their point of view. So instead he jerked his head in a nod. "You should be getting to work." 

Moments later he drove off, his grip on the steering wheel tight. He'd figure this out, he knew that he could. 

 

\---------------

 

Going back to his home only served to make the thoughts in him stew more, growing more impatient as time went on. The situation wasn't hard to piece together. It was well known that Joe and his gang were drug dealers, and that Merle ran around with them on occasions. The components to the problem were clear, but Shane didn't have the answer. The immediate fix would be paying them off, but Daryl was already involved in that group because of Merle. What would stop them from asking Daryl for more money when they needed it? And God forbid that Merle came around again, and started using more and needed Daryl to pay off his debts again. 

The cycle seemed never ending. 

The man started to pace around the home, unable to keep still. After a few minutes of this his head snapped over towards his phone. Within moments he snatched it up and went typing.

It was time to give Rick Grimes a call. He wasn't surprised, but the man answered after only two rings. 

"Shane?" 

He hesitated for a moment, "Yeah, it's me." He sighed, "I.. I need to ask a favor." 

"Oh?" 

"Need you to keep it quiet, too." 

"Shane," Rick voice was quiet, but wary. Almost like a warning. 

"I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important, alright? And I can't do it myself with being off all week." 

A breath was blown out from the other side, "Yeah, okay. Go on." 

"I need some files pulled. Need some information on Joe. The one that owns that bar downtown. Owner of that group, The Claimers." There was silence on the other end for a moment. "Rick? You there?" 

"What are you doing nosing around in the Claimers, Shane?" 

Shane rubbed his head, "It's important. Real important." His mind flashed to Daryl, and his heart thundered. "Please, Rick."

"Need you to tell me why you need it first." Rick's voice was pleading. "Give me something to go off of. I'll help, but I need to understand." 

He hesitated, leaning against a wall. "It's about Daryl. That's all I'm saying. Now will you help me?" 

Another beat of silence before, "Yeah, I'll help." The man sighed. "I came over this morning. Spoke to.. To Daryl." 

Shane's jaw clenched, "Yeah, I know. He told me." Rick didn't need to know the truth. He didn't want to hurt his friend, he would never intentionally do so. "Was sleeping." 

They were both unsure of themselves in the conversation, not knowing what to say or what they wanted to accomplish. Things felt so unsettled, and silence stretched on between them for a long period of time. 

Rick was the one to break it, "I'll look Joe's record up and some of the other members up, and I'll let you know what I find." 

Shane breathed out, "Thank you." He could hear Rick's reply on the other side, but it was muted to his thoughts. There was still something stirring within him, and he needed to ask. "Haven't heard from Lori since that day that she came over here. How're things?" Despite the strain between them, he still cared about them. He couldn't stop that, it was something engrained in him from a long time ago when he'd first been introduced to Lori. 

"I .. It's," Rick couldn't seem to find the right words. "We're working through it. Going to marriage counseling." 

Shane blew out a breath that was half amused. "Gonna talk about your feelings and shit?"

Rick hummed, his tone lighter. "That's what she wants." Then, his tone turned more serious. "I need to. For her, for Carl. I'm trying to make it work." 

Shane thought about Daryl, about Joe and the others. "Yeah, me too." The man breathed in deeply. "I'll let ya get back to work. Thanks, again. And," He paused. "Best of luck with it." 

"You too, brother." 

Shane was unsure of how he felt about the word now. Brothers fought, that he was sure of, but he wasn't so sure that they could completely come back from the damage done. He ended the call and let out a frustrated noise before tossing the thing away. 

It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it. Comments and kudos are love. Thanks all!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is mighty interesting, isn't it boys?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Sexual scene ahead.

Shane found himself restless in the days to come. Rick hadn't called him back about the files yet, and he hungered. He couldn't get it all out of his head. Joe, and the Claimers. Daryl. He couldn't stop thinking about it, wondering when Daryl would next drop off money. A hundred different scenarios played out in his head continuously, going through all of the horrid things that could potentially go wrong. 

He couldn't sit around and do nothing with his days, so instead he went off. During his days he took off driving through the town, parked across the street from the bar that Joe owned. He watched, trying to figure out when the best time would be.. But for what? 

He still didn't know to solve the mess that was unfolding right before his eyes. Daryl avoided the subject at all costs with him, but he couldn't sit back and do nothing about it. He didn't think about what he might do with this information, he just watched. He watched Joe, and the other group members. He took mark of when they all came in to the bar, and when Joe would leave for his usual lunch break. He just watched. 

There was a few times when Shane thought that someone was noticing him. One of the members from the group. Lenny, he thought his name might be. Greasy looking as the rest of them, and always stared off towards Shane's car that was parked off a ways when he was out on his smoke breaks. 

When he wasn't watching, he was taking Daryl to Dale's and then picking him up back in the evenings. They'd spent a few days getting used to the new dynamic in their relationship. The kissing. The touching. Never anything sexual, because Shane put a stop to it before it could happen. 

He was confused by the urge inside of him to push it off. Not because he didn't want it, but instead because of the way that Daryl's hands got shaky whenever they pushed the limits of kissing. He knew without Daryl confirming it that the other had to be a virgin. The thought still warmed him to his very core, but he had to remind himself not to abuse that. That he needed to wait, because it meant something. Daryl meant something to him. 

Of course things still got heated, and Shane ended up with a tent in his underwear more nights than not, but he could always take care of that at other times. 

They settled in the home well together. Shane was always there to talk about bullshit and lighten Daryl's mood whenever the younger's eyes seemed to dim. In return, Daryl brought him back from the fiery hot temper with blue eyed looks, and sarcastic, sometimes even sincere remarks. It worked. 

Shane drove off towards Dale's on the fourth night of this, parked a block away. Daryl came walking towards the car, his head down and walking a bit more crookedly than usual. His eyes narrowed with concern. 

"The hell did you do to your ribs?" He asked as soon as the other was in the car. 

Daryl huffed, shooting him an exasperated look. "Hello to you too." Shane didn't say anything in return, just lifted up his brow expectantly. "Christ, this leave is making you unbearable." 

That got Shane to crack a smile as he drove off towards his home. "Not gonna argue with that. Now, c'mon. Saw you walking weird." 

The teen deflated in his seat from his tiredness. "Pushed myself too far is all." 

"Daryl," Shane cut his gaze over to the other when they were at a stop sign. 

"What? You wanna hear that it hurts like a bitch? It does." 

The man rubbed a hand over his head, "Once you take a shower I'm checking it." 

"You don't need'a check it." 

"I do." 

"Don't." 

"Do." 

"Don't." 

"Do." 

"God damn it, you're a stubborn asshole sometimes, ya know that?" Daryl's lips were slightly quirked up, and Shane couldn't argue with that either, but he felt pleased with his work as he drove them towards his home. 

He carefully followed Daryl into his home, making sure that he wasn't walking too strangely. "Go on," He nodded, jerking his head towards his bathroom and room. 

Daryl rolled his eyes, but he had a light look on his face. "I'm going, Officer." 

Shane gathered up some pain killers, and waited until he heard the water shut off in the bathroom. "I'm ready when you are," He knocked on the door leading into his bathroom. He heard a noise, but it wasn't very distinguishable, so he waited as patiently as he could. 

After a few minutes the door opened. Daryl was standing there, hair still damp and his clothes sticking to his body, though he was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers. 

"Alright, take a seat. Just gonna check around. Not gonna press hard. Have some pills with me that I want you to take, too." 

Daryl took a seat on the edge of the closed toilet seat, shifting in his spot. "Don't go checking for long." 

Shane knelt down in front of him, cocking a brow with a half smirk. "Why, you got plans that I don't know about?" 

The younger huffed out a small, amused breath. "Like you wouldn't already know. You're too damn nosy for your own good." 

"Again, I'm not gonna argue with ya." He reached out, pushing Daryl's shirt up and under until it was rucked up under his armpits. 

He blinked at the damage, putting a quick stop to the angered thoughts that always popped up whenever he was faced with bruising on Daryl. It was fading now, but still there. However there was an improvement that was clearly shown. The others ribs weren't visible. Or at least, they weren't as visible as they had been. He was very adamant about Daryl eating three meals a day, something that the he didn't seem used to, but Shane made him do either way. His chest grew warm, looking at the other. 

"You gonna check or what?" The voice broke him out of his thoughts, though Daryl's voice was smaller, and quieter. 

"Quit rushing me," The man muttered half heartedly before he brought his fingers out, nudging gently in certain spots, and smoothing over other areas of the rib cage. "Nothing feels broken," He spoke absently, though his voice was distant. 

Daryl brought his hands up to push his shirt down, but Shane's hands caught his in his own. He squeezed them gently, looking up and making eye contact with the other before he ducked his head closer. His nose was the first thing to nudge at Daryl's ribs on his right side, his eyes closed while he stayed there for a moment. Then, he slowly pressed his lips to the bare skin. At the first touch of his lips to the bared skin, Daryl's hands turned soft in his grip, and relaxed. He let them go in favor of putting his hands on the his rib cage, spanning over his skin but not pressing. Instead he lips moved again, pressing another kiss to different spot. Daryl's breathing sped up, and his hands sunk into Shane's hair. 

The mans lips parted, leaving wetter, lingering kisses against the others skin, working his way down his torso. He found a spot that he liked, before sucking a mark against his hip bone. Daryl made a small noise in the back of his throat, his hands tight in Shane's hair now. Shane only hummed encouragingly, nosing his way across to the other side of Daryl's torso before starting the process all over again. He worked his way down, leaving an identical mark on Daryl's other hip bone. He couldn't help but nip at it gently with his teeth, only to sooth the mark a moment later with a kiss or two. 

"Shane," Daryl breathed out, his cheeks pink while his chest moved up and down quick. There was an obvious bulge, hidden only by the fabric of Daryl's flimsy boxers. However Daryl's hands twitched while in his hair. 

One moved to his shoulder, fumbling and slightly shaking. 

Shane scooped it up in his hand, and squeezed and spoke after a moment of silence. "Here, c'mon. Get up and take those pills. And then I got something in mind." 

"Oh?" Daryl looked slightly dizzy from the exchange, and leaned towards Shane. He hummed and pulled the other up after he stood up as well, enjoying the way that Daryl swayed into his side. 

"Mhm, get some pants on and we'll get going." His eyes flickered down to the situation in Daryl's boxers, smirking slightly. 

The younger huffed, cheeks pink again. "Man, get outt'a here. Never gonna get anything done with you in here." 

Shane's smirk widened into a grin and he pulled away, "Yeah, yeah. I'll be waiting in the kitchen."

 

\---------------

 

Shane leaned against the counter while he thumbed through his phone. He lingered over Rick's contact, itching to text him and ask why he didn't have any information yet. Before he could make the decision his head jerked up upon hearing footsteps coming near. Daryl was fully dressed now, cheeks no longer pink and his hair slightly dryer. 

"Where're we goin?" 

Shane shrugged, "Thought we could get outt'a here again." 

The answer earned him narrowed eyes but Daryl didn't question it anymore as he put on his shoes. Once they were in the car Shane took the same route that he had when they'd first done this, driving off to the same diner those few towns away. Daryl looked over at a stop and their gazes met, understanding flowing through them. For now, everything felt settled. Content. 

This time when they went into the diner, not so many people stared. Shane's bruises were faded, and Daryl's walk was far straighter than it had been when they'd came here the first time. They sat at the same booth, and both ordered the same things. 

An old rock song played through the diner and Shane hummed to it, rocking his head a little. He felt eyes on him, and so he looked up with a fry hanging from his mouth. "What?" He asked after he'd swallowed. 

Daryl bit on the inside of his cheek, like he was trying to hide a smile. "Nothing." 

The man's ears heated up, his foot coming out to nudge at Daryl's. "C'mon, you've got me feeling like a fool with your staring. Tell me," A smile was creeping up on his face. 

Daryl shook his head, unable to hide the smile. "Nah, you ain't gonna like it none. Was just something that popped into my head is all." 

Shane stared, completely expectant. 

"That song you were humming.. Was just funny is all. Merle loves this song. Does a bit more than you, head bangs with it an' all. Reminded me of him." 

Shane's smile dropped. "Did you just compare me to your brother?" His face pulled in a scowl. 

"You kind'a act like him. Both hot headed, assholes," The teen snickered. 

He scoffed, "I am nothing like Merle Dixon. I .. " He paused, paling. Was he? 

Daryl continued to snicker, "Shit, don't think too hard. Gonna give yourself a headache." 

Shane glared, "I am nothing like Merle Dixon," He spoke with more conviction in his voice and he leaned forward, swiping at some of Daryl's fries. 

"Hey!" It was louder than he apparently thought, because Daryl immediately shrank into himself with wide eyes, both sheepishly smiling at each other. 

"Can't take you anywhere, Dixon." He couldn't help the fond tone that was laced with the words as he stretched out his legs once more, intertwining their feet together, both sharing looks over their meals. 

It felt pure, and from that Shane felt lighter than he had in years.

 

\---------------

 

The pair walked out of the diner later that night, full and sated as they got back into Shane's Jeep. As he drove, he looked over at Daryl a few times and noticed how calm he looked. Relaxed, and with a slight tilt to his lips. Desperate to hold onto that for a little while longer, he took an odd turn. 

"Where're we going?" 

The man shrugged, "The night's not over yet. Figured we could drive around this place." 

Daryl cocked a brow, but he didn't fight. Instead he turned on the radio and deflated comfortably back into his seat as Shane drove them around the city. It wasn't terribly big, but bigger than their own. No one knew them here. Here, he wasn't afraid to let his hand linger on Daryl's arm, or watch him in such an obvious way. The city lights twinkled around them, and other cars leisurely passed by. He slowed when he turned into a more residential area, one the was filled with homes. 

"You ever think of leaving?" 

Shane looked over, quiet for a moment or two before he nodded his head. "Yeah, I think about leaving all the time." 

"Why don't you?" Daryl looked out the window as they pulled over in a more vacant area, which looked like the starts of a park. 

He sighed, head tipping back against his seat. "Lived my whole life in that town. That town is my whole life." That was all that he'd ever known. Rick, Lori, Carl. The station. That was his home, wasn't it? 

"Lived my whole life there, too. Wasn't worth shit," Daryl's voice turned bitter. "Wouldn't change if I left." 

"Daryl," Shane started. 

The teen huffed, "No. It wouldn't. Stupid that I think 'bout it. I'd still just be a Dixon if I left. Not ever gonna be able to get rid of that name." 

He turned in his seat. "Hey, quit with that shit. You're not getting rid of that name, but.. Hell, who's to say that you can't change what it means?" Daryl was looking at his lap, eyes downcast. "Look at me," Shane's hand moved, his fingers grasping at his chin to move his head up. "You aren't like Merle. You sure as shit aren't like Will. Don't go thinking that you are." 

When Daryl titled his head up fully he realized how close they were. His eyes were drawn to Daryl's lips, which was an action that seemed to be turning into a habit. Without a second thought, he kissed him. 

"Let's get back, yeah?" 

Daryl's hand squeezed at his arm, "Yeah."

 

\---------------

 

Shane found himself in the bathroom later that night, dressed in his usual attire of just underwear as he got ready for bed. He was brushing his teeth when Daryl entered the bathroom. The other was looking around at the ground, trying to find something. Most likely the dirty shirt that he'd left there earlier. The man was rinsing out his mouth when he looked up, noticing how Daryl was stopped and looking at him, his curious gaze roaming over Shane's near bare body. He set his toothbrush aside, a smirk pulling at his mouth. 

"You alright?" 

Daryl snapped out of his gaze, eyes going wider and his cheeks warming. "I-- Yeah," He stammered. 

Shane turned around, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against his bathroom counter. "It's alright to look, you know. I'm not gonna tell ya that ya can't." He tilted his head up slightly, lips hitching in a smile. "C'mere." 

"Shane," Daryl complained, his cheeks becoming even more pink. 

He huffed out an amused breath, "C'mon, you don't gotta be so shy. Only me and you here. 'Sides, I look at you too." Slowly, the other came closer and Shane tugged him even closer when he was within a foot of his body. 

"Don't gotta stay stuff like that," He mumbled. 

Shane made a disapproving sound, "Want to. I mean it, too." 

His hands came up, framing Daryl's head as he pulled him closer before kissing him. Daryl seemed to melt into his touch, his body swaying closer. His kissing was getting better, too. He was more confident, it seemed. He made a low humming noise in his throat when he felt cautious lips parting slightly against his own. One hand smoothed up and threaded through Daryl's hair, guiding his head into the correct angles as he slipped his tongue in his mouth. A low buzz started back up in his body, and it only furthered when Daryl pressed his torso against Shane's. 

The man didn't want to break the kiss, exploring Daryl's mouth as he walked them backwards, out of the room and into his bedroom. When the back of his legs hit the bed, he pulled back. Daryl's lips were pink, and his eyes were full of trust. Shane pulled apart even more, scooting onto the bed but kept their hands together and he tugged, Daryl following eagerly onto the bed. He leaned his back against the wall behind the bed, coaxing Daryl closer. He grinned at the others clumsy way of getting into his lap. 

"Quit grinning like that," Daryl huffed out breathlessly, his eyes light. 

"Not a chance," He melded their lips back together. 

This time he let Daryl guide the kiss. His hands stayed at Daryl's hips, and he hummed when he felt hands threading through his hair. When he felt a tongue swiping at his lips he eagerly opened them, their kiss growing deeper. His body was filling with warmth, smoothing up and down Daryl's back, occasionally going back to grasp at Daryl's hips. The younger gave a whimper when their hips made contact. Shane eagerly swallowed the noise up, a shot of arousal bursting through him. Their hard cocks were still clothed, now brushing together. Daryl's hips were just as clumsy as his lips had been, and Shane put a stop to them with a firm grip. 

"Wait," He breathed out with effort. "Are you -- " Are you sure, his mind was bursting to ask. "We don't gotta do anything that you don't want." 

Daryl looked back at him, his hands settling at Shane's shoulders. His fingers were firm and steady now, "Wanna." 

Shane's body ignited and he dragged Daryl closer by the hips, both of them letting out noises when their hard cocks came into contact. They were still clothed, with Shane just in his underwear and Daryl in his underwear and a t-shirt but Shane wasn't going to push to take off the layers. This was most likely the others first sexual experience, and his body positively warmed at that thought, but he also reminded himself that it came with a responsibility. He wanted to make this good, to not push. 

"I ain't ever, I haven't-- " Daryl stammered to get out. 

Shane kissed him, soothing the words to come. "It's alright," He managed to get out. "It's alright, just do what feels good. Don't have to do anything that you don't want." Soon Daryl's hips tilted against Shane's again, and Shane's large hands came down against his hips, holding them tight. He guided the other into a rhythm that had both of them groaning. 

"Like this," He murmured, his lips brushing against Daryl's ear from where the youngers head was bent forward. His hands smoothed down, grabbing Daryl's ass and grinding their hips together once more, picking the pace up after a few minutes. Daryl bit down on his lip hard, muffling a noise. "Nu-uh, c'mon. Lemme hear you," He spoke firmly, squeezing the others ass for emphasis. 

Finally, Daryl let go and let his sounds fall out. Shane drank up every whimper, ever whine, moan and groan that he could earn. 

"Shane, I can't-- " His eyes were screwed up tight, closed shut but his lips were parted. 

"Fuck," Shane craved the friction. "You're doing good. So good for me," He ducked his head, sucking at a spot that he liked on Daryl's neck. "C'mon, let go for me. Want you to do it." He bit down on the spot, knowing that it would later leave a mark. 

Daryl's body tensed up before he came in his boxers, his hips stuttering to a stop. "Shane," He moaned out softly, his head tilting forward to tuck into Shane's neck. 

The man was already close to the edge, and watching Daryl had him rutting his cock against Daryl's ass once, twice, three times before he released, holding the other tight. "Mine," The word slipped out without thought, hazy in the come down as he held Daryl's body to his. 

Daryl's body was completely lax against his own, his nose nudging against his neck. His voice was quiet, but he'd heard it. "Yours."

The two laid there for awhile until Shane coaxed the other up, cleaning them both up as best as he could before they fell back into the bed again. They slept close, limbs tangled in one big heap, and they stayed asleep until the next morning, not a worry in either of their heads. 

When morning did finally wake them up, it was like nothing had changed, but yet everything had. Shane pushed his head close, nosing at the marks that he'd made the night before and Daryl smoothed a hand through his messy, dark hair. They spent their time like that, touching contently, and enjoying the slow morning before Daryl regretfully had to leave for work. 

Shane felt loose, and relaxed for the rest of the morning, despite Daryl not being in the home with him. He nearly forget about the rest of the world, until he got a call. 

When he saw Rick's name flash across the screen he picked up immediately, "Yeah?" Rick didn't immediately speak. "Rick?" 

A sigh sounded from the other side. "Yeah, I'm here. I'm sorry it took me this long to get back to you. Didn't have a whole lot of time here.. But I checked Joe's record. Some of the others, too."

"And?" 

"It's not good. I mean, we both knew they were dealing but it seems like each member has a rap sheet a mile long." 

"What kind'a charges?" 

"Drunk and disorderly, drug charges, those types of things. Assault, domestics. And," The silence was heavy. "An alarming amount of sexual assault charges." 

Shane's blood ran cold, and he must have not spoken for awhile. "Shane, you there?" 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here," He managed to get his voice to cooperate. 

"Please, please don't go doing something on your own about .. About whatever's happening with you and Daryl. Come to me, come to the station. We can help, please." 

He huffed out a bitter laugh, "And how the hell are you gonna help?" His head shook. "Thanks for pulling those for me. I've gotta go." 

"Shane, wait-- " The man hung up the phone, grabbed his keys and left. 

 

\---------------

 

Shane went back to watching. He didn't know what to do with this new information. Sharing it with Daryl wouldn't do any good, since he knew that it wouldn't stop the Dixon from going off and paying Merle's debts. All it did was show him that Daryl couldn't be alone around these people. The information made him more sloppy, following from a closer distance. Watching from a closer distance. 

He watched this time as Lenny came outside for his smoke break, but with another individual. Joe. The men stood there, and his jaw ticked every time that the men would look off towards him. He was noticed, he knew that. But yet he couldn't move. He felt stupid. He felt reckless, and he couldn't control it. 

Eventually the pair went back inside, but Shane stayed. He stayed until around noon, almost ready to leave when he noticed a familiar figure walking towards the bar. He nearly forgot how to breathe, watching as Daryl went into the bar. Within a few minutes Shane was out of his car and walking fast off towards the bar, walking across the side walks, across the road and straight into the building. 

Inside it was smoky, and the regulars were there, already drinking despite it only being noon. The whole place was dark, and the music was loud. He looked around frantically, trying to find the other. He resisted the urge to shout Daryl's name and instead kept looking. His eyes looked over the heads. Too short, too tall, hair was too dark, not enough hair-- 

"Daryl," He shouted, watching as the teen was being corralled towards one of the back rooms that the bar had. 

Daryl's head whipped over, panic in his eyes. 

"Daryl," He tried again, pushing his way through others to get towards him. 

Joe had his arm around Daryl's shoulders, a smirk on his face. "You know him?" 

Daryl's eyes were wide. "I -- I don't -- " He couldn't get the words out while Lenny was standing to the side, staring at Shane oddly. 

"Get off'a him," He growled out. "C'mon Daryl, we're leaving."

Joe grinned, "Whoa now, not so fast. You sure do seem familiar." 

Shane's body tensed, and he watched as Lenny opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. "That's the sonuva bitch that's been parked out watching us!" 

He tried to ignore Daryl's surprised gaze that had whipped towards him.

"You know what, Len? I do believe that you're right. This is the man that's been watching us. Now, I'm sure he can explain. We're reasonable men, we'll give you that opportunity." 

Shane's fists clenched, "I don't owe you any God damn explanation. I'm leaving, and I'm leaving with Daryl." 

Joe's gaze turned darker, "Boy, I'd rethink that. Daryl here owes us." 

"He doesn't owe you shit!" Shane snarled. "You want money? Find a way to take it from Merle. You damn well know Daryl doesn't have shit to do with this." He stepped forward, "Now get the fuck off of him." 

"Shane, step back." Daryl shifted uncomfortably under Joe's arm and he came forward, right in front of Shane. His eyes were desperate and his voice was rough, "You gotta get the fuck out'a here, and you're gonna do it. You're gonna do it now." 

Shane's head shook, looking down at Daryl. "I'm not leaving without you." 

Joe whistled, "Well, there. This is mighty interesting, isn't it boys? Daryl, I thought you said you didn't know this man. You seem pretty close to him now." A sickly smile spread on his lips, "That right there.. Was a lie. And you know I don't take it lightly when I'm lied too." 

All of a sudden, the world seemed to shift. Daryl was grabbed by one of Joe's men and pulled backwards while Shane was pulled the opposite direction. He growled, feeling feral as he shoved the men off of him, fighting to make it towards Daryl. The younger was putting up a fight, hissing and lashing out like an alley cat but he was still injured. He couldn't hold his own like this. 

By now the rest of the bar was in a fritz, the other patrons wondering what the fight was about, though a fight in a place like this wasn't a rare appearance. Everyone was trying to shove in close, wanting to see, but then something changed. 

There was a sharp pain in his side, and he looked down. 

Distantly he heard Daryl yelling his head off in the background, "Shane!" 

The man blinked down at himself, seeing the handle of a knife sticking out of his torso.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is winding down folks. Not too many chapters left. Comments and kudos are love.
> 
> Thank you all!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Go home, sleep in the damned bed."

The world seemed to stop for a moment. Shane was blinking down at the handle of the knife that was sticking out of his torso. It's on his right side, and in the mid area of his torso. 

Yells snapped him back to the real world. 

"Shane! Shane!" 

He looked up, and saw Daryl struggling against hands, his face showing an expression of pure terror as he fought to make his way towards Shane. The man felt unsteady on his feet, but he can still feel the rage flowing through him at seeing hands on Daryl, pulling so harshly. 

"Let go of him!" He snarled, and took one lumbering step forward. 

The anger and fierce need to protect Daryl was flowing through his veins now, overtaking him. He threw himself at the men surrounding Daryl, jostling the knife painfully inside of his body. Daryl broke free, while Shane went tumbling to the ground with the other men. 

Once he hit the ground, everything hit him at once. Suddenly the noise is all back, as are the yells from the crowd that are watching. Some are panicked, while some are hooting. 

Vaguely he can hear Joe's words in the back ground, "Damn it, Len, he's a fucking pig!" 

The man that had fallen with him is scrambling back, his hands stained with the blood that's quickly soaking through Shane's shirt. 

And then everything shifted again, the sounds going muted in his mind. The pain in his body was there, but it was distant. He couldn't focus on it. He couldn't focus on anything. He's simply laying on the ground, his eyes vacantly looking up at the ceiling. 

Suddenly, blue eyes and blonde hair swam into his vision. Daryl was there, his face colored with panic. 

"Shane! Damn it," He can feel Daryl's hand against his side, and he groaned. Everything feels wet, and his shirt feels sticky with the substance of his own blood. 

"Someone call an ambulance!" Daryl's yelling. No one from the bar does anything. "Someone call the fuckin' cops! An ambulance! Anything!" The teen's voice is hoarse with disuse from all the yelling. "He's bleeding out! Someone fuckin' do something!" 

Shane couldn't focus on the words, but instead he focused on Daryl's face. His hand came up, fingertips trailing over Daryl's jaw and lazily down his neck, his strength leaving him. He wanted to tell him how he feels. He wanted to say it with his words, and he parted his lips with the intention of doing so, but the words never made it to the surface.

The last thing that he remembers is Daryl's terrified face before the world turned black.

 

\---------------

 

Shane remembers flashes of things. 

He can hear someone calling his name in a desperate voice, and something pressing against his side so hard that he groaned in pain. He can remember his head lulling to the side, trying to get away from bright, flashing lights. The noises were there, but they were muted in a way. Not fully audible. Even his name sounded distorted.

Not once had his eyes opened, nor had he been near coherent, but the slight memories stuck in his mind before he fell into a further darkness in which he could not remember anything at all.

 

\---------------

 

The first thing that Shane noticed was how thirsty he is. His throat felt like sandpaper. His head moved slightly on something soft. A pillow, his brain supplied for him a moment later. Was he at his house, he wondered, blissfully unaware of the past events for a little while. 

But something was off. The smell, it was too sterile and clean. The sheets were too scratchy, and he was wearing something around him. He gave a soft groan, twisting slightly on the bed. 

He heard a gasp, "Shane?" Fingers were winding their way into his hand, squeezing tight. 

After a few moments he managed to open his eyes, though he immediately squinted them in discomfort, bright light shining all around him. He gave another groan, and a face came into his vision. The face was becoming less and less blurry with passing time and he huffed out a low breath when he realized who it was. Daryl was standing close, his face twisted in a sour expression that was full of worry. Shane couldn't do anything but stare with a mildly dopey look on his face. 

"You stupid son of a bitch." 

Yeah, that was Daryl alright, he thought to himself. 

Shane huffed out a breath that was meant to be a laugh, but he winced at the pain in his side. It must have shown because Daryl was leaving his side, and yelling for a nurse. 

He closed his eyes, feeling slightly out of it as a flurry of nurses flooded the room to check on him. They asked him his birthday, what year it was, and who was in the room with him. He had to follow the light with his eyes, and they had to check on his torso. Apparently, it had been no simple stab wound, though he wondered if there was such a thing. 

Still, throughout the whole process his head kept lulling back to look at Daryl who was sitting in the chair nearby, his leg jiggling uncontrollably and looking like he was about to bite his whole nail off. 

"The doctor will be in soon to explain everything to you," The nurse spoke sweetly, smiling at him before she left, however he had other questions in his mind. 

What the hell had happened after he'd went down? What had happened to Joe and the others? The nurses and the doctor couldn't explain that. 

As soon as they were alone again Shane stared at Daryl more intently, his whole body feeling fuzzy. They'd pumped him full of medicine again. 

"Daryl," He called out, needing him so much closer to reassure himself that the other was okay. 

The younger looked suddenly so much more nervous, and shy. He was standing now, but he was still chewing on his nail and looking at the ground. "Rick 'n Lori are here. Their kid, too. They left to go to the cafeteria, but they're here." 

"Daryl," He tried again, his arm reaching out. He wasn't focused on Lori, or Rick, or Carl. He was focused on the person right in front of him. Daryl looked up, eyes flitting towards him and then away again. 

Slowly, like a wild animal, Daryl came forward. He looked wary, though at the first touch he sagged into the embrace. Shane tugged him close and buried a hand in his hair, one arm holding him around the middle. Relief flooded his body as he held the other close, feeling for himself that he was okay. Untouched. 

Daryl's body was tense, and a noise slipped from him that was distressed before he turned pliant in the hold. Fingers knotted into his hospital gown and a face shoved its way into the crook of his neck. 

A yell brought him out of the embrace. "Shane!" 

Shane's head jerked up to see Rick, Lori and Carl in the doorway of the room. They two adults were frozen in place, staring. Briefly he wondered how long they'd been there. The child was the one that snapped everyone out of the daze. Before he could blink Daryl was pulling back, and Carl was running at him instead. The kid couldn't quite get onto the bed, but Rick was there to help. 

"Careful, bud. Remember, Uncle Shane's side is hurt." 

The child crawled close, eyes wide. "Daddy said you don't feel good," He was apprehensive, kneeled next to Shane on the bed. "He said I can't come too close," His bottom lip jutted out in a pout. 

Shane couldn't deny the kid anything, and he smiled. "I think I can work in a hug for ya. C'mere," He held out an arm, and Carl eagerly snuggled close into his uninjured side. 

"Are you hurt now? You were sleepin, an' I told Daddy that I sleep when I feel bad too." 

His heart ached, running a hand through the child's hair. "That's right, all I needed was a nap. I'm feeling a lot better now."

He heard a murmured response from Carl, though couldn't distinguish what was being said, nor could he really focus. Not when all of these people were in the room. The number wasn't what made him uneasy, but instead of who all was in the room. It was like two worlds were colliding, and he was fearful of the outcome. 

"How are you feeling?" Lori asked, her eyes flitting from an uncomfortable looking Daryl to Shane. 

He looked up at her, cocking a brow. "About as good as you'd expect. Doctor's supposed to come in and talk to me soon, tell me all what went on in there." He nodded towards his side that was bandaged and aching, though it was getting better as the medicine flowed through him. 

"We've been here since.. Well, since you basically got here." Rick cleared his throat. "Daryl and I have. Lori and Carl came a few hours ago. It's good to see your eyes open." 

Shane gave a slight smile, though it was strained. "It's good to have 'em open." He couldn't ask the questions that he really wanted to ask. Not with Carl in the room. He glanced off towards Daryl, who was shifting uneasily on his feet now. 

"Do you need anything?" Lori piped up, eyes wide and concerned. 

"Yeah," Shane swallowed with a wince. "Some water would be nice." 

Daryl was looking up in an instant, "I'll go get it." And before any of them could react, he was gone. 

They were all left in silence, the adults unsure of what to say and the child looking increasingly sleepy as he settled more against Shane. 

"He didn't leave once." Rick started out after a moment or two. Shane's eyes looked over, brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. "You should've seen him when you got brought in here. I didn't think anything would calm him down. He was.. " His partner sighed, and shook his head. "He cares about you a lot, I see that now." 

He could imagine it in his mind, Daryl refusing to leave like a loyal dog might. The scene both warmed his heart and made it ache as well. But still, he wasn't satisfied. 

"You said you were with me from the beginning. Did you.. " 

Rick cleared his throat, "I was one of the responding officers." He took a pause, breathing in deeply. "It's taken care of." Rick came closer, and squeezed at his shoulder. "We'll talk more later. Daryl will fill you in, but we can talk more. Ford will be making a stop in here, too." 

He nearly groaned, thinking about the ginger tornado that was Abraham Ford. "Yeah, yeah. Alright." 

"Maybe we should get going. We don't want to.. " Lori trailed off, trying to find the correct words. "I think he's a bit uncomfortable with us being here." Then her voice got smaller. "And maybe you are, too." 

Shane looked at Lori, his brown eyes turning wider. The words wouldn't leave his throat. 

"It's okay," She relented, giving him a slight smile but he could see the sadness in it. 

"That ain't.. " He sighed. "Maybe we've got a bit of work to do. All three of us. But it's gonna get there. And.. I appreciate you guys stopping in to see me." His words seemed to calm the tension in the room, and genuine smiles slipped onto all of their faces. 

"Alright, it's time to say goodbye to Uncle Shane." Lori came, ready to pluck Carl into her arms. 

The child gave a whine that got Shane grinning, "Don't get like that. I'll be coming over soon enough to see ya. Bust out that new Lego set I know ya have." It brightened Carl's mood considerably, and he received a tight hug from the child. "I'll see you later, little man." Carl smiled from his spot at his mothers hip and waved goodbye. 

Rick gave him another shoulder squeeze, "Call us if you need anything. I'll see you soon." 

The absence of the word 'brother' was clear. They could both acknowledge that they weren't the same. Their friendship wasn't the same, but they both wanted to work on things, and maybe it could return. He hoped that it could. 

Shane watched the three go into the hallway, the wall to his room full of glass windows. Daryl was just walking up again with a bottle of water in his hands. They all stopped, and he could see Rick's lips moving but he couldn't hear what was being said. As they started to part Carl's little hand came up and waved goodbye at Daryl. The teen seemed caught off guard, but waved back and came back into the room a moment later with a brighter look on his face. 

 

\---------------

 

The doctor that came in was an older fellow, with white hair and kind eyes. The man didn't seem fazed with the close proximity of which Daryl and Shane were to each other. Daryl had come back in and was standing by him, slightly leaning into the bed with his hand on the sheets. Their hands were close, nearly brushing but not quite. 

"Shane Walsh. You got very familiar with a knife, I hear." 

The man grimaced, "Yeah. Little too close for my liking." 

The doctor smiled, "I'd say we all share that opinion. My name is Dr. Herschel Greene, I was the man who operated on you when you came in." 

"Operated on me?" 

The man hummed, "Your condition could have been much worse if we hadn't of acted quick. However, you should be thankful to that one right there." His gaze fell to Daryl. "I was told he kept pressure on your side until the paramedics came." 

Shane looked to the younger who seemed uncomfortable with the attention. "I am," Though his gaze went back to Dr. Greene as the man started flipping through some files of his. 

"The knife went in at a very unfortunate spot, and was jostled around a bit. There was of course damage to nerves and muscle from the exit and entry of the knife. That will result in physical therapy, but it will most likely heal up nicely, and eventually scar over," Herschel closed up the file, looking at the pair of them. 

The doctors face then turned more serious, "However that wasn't all of the damage. The knife gave a slight tear to your kidney. Not as bad as it could have been, not nearly. But still, we take any injuries to the kidneys very seriously. The rip wasn't large, more of a graze, and we closed it before too much harm could happen, but we'd still like to monitor you for a six days. Injuries like this will heal, though they do come with their fair share of symptoms. You may find blood in your urine, bruising around your abdomen, and a frequent pain in that area. More serious symptoms are anemia, and shock, or infection which is why you will be staying, so we can ensure that you're all healed." 

The information was too much to handle all at once, and was far too much to process. Shane blinked at the man, and the first thing he could say was, "I have to sit around here for six days?" 

Herschel just chuckled kindly, "I'm afraid that's true. But after that you're free to go home. And once home, you'll be on bed rest until you fully heal, and you'll have to return for checkups. You seem like a very stubborn man, Mr. Walsh. I'm going to hope you'll have someone at home with you that'll make sure you keep in line." 

Daryl swallowed roughly, and jerked his head in a nod. The implication behind that flooded Shane's body with relief. That meant that Daryl was planning on staying. That he would stick around despite all of this. 

"Alright, are there any questions boys?" The two stayed silent, and the doctor gave a polite smile. "Ask one of the nurses for me if you think of any. Now, get to resting, and you'll be out of here soon enough."

They were left in silence after that, and he could only think about certain words that had stuck out. Physical therapy. Symptoms. Infection. When he looked up Daryl was turned away, his back tense. 

"None of this would'a happened if you'd have just stayed out of it." The voice was low, but there. 

"Daryl," He sighed out. 

"No," Daryl's voice got louder as he turned, lashing out, but the fear was plain to see on his face. "See what that did? Shit, this ain't some easy fucking heal. This is gonna take time. You-- You weren't supposed to get involved." The teen ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated noise. "Why the hell didn't you listen to me?" 

Shane's jaw tensed, "Would you have?" 

Daryl's eyes looked up, narrowed and confused. 

"Shit," He breathed out. "Think about it. You're apart of this now. With me. You sleep in my bed, but I'm not allowed to worry 'bout what's going on with you? You can't ask me to forget 'bout the fact that you're dealing with dangerous drug dealers. You can't ask me to be okay with that," Shane's chest was heaving, and his body hurt. "Shouldn't have gone about it the way I did, but that's all I'm apologizing for. That's it. I'm not gonna say sorry for worrying 'bout you, or stopping whatever the hell was going to happen." His tone broke off, softer. "I care about you. Don't.. Don't ask me to ignore that shit, because you know I can't." 

Daryl's shoulders slumped, and his gaze looked to the ground. 

"C'mere," The man tried. "Look at me, alright?" Slowly Daryl came closer, until he was in arms reach and he was tugged closer. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it like that, and I shouldn't have gone behind your back. I'm saying it, okay? But I'm not sorry for getting involved." 

Eventually Daryl's body slumped forward, and his forehead pressed into the crook of his neck again. "You're still a dumbass." 

Shane hummed, smoothing a hand over Daryl's back, "I know I am."

The pair stayed like that for awhile, wrapped up in each others presence before Shane's questions bubbled out. "Need to know what happened. After I passed out. With Joe, and all them."

Daryl nudged his nose against Shane's neck, and pulled back partially. "They're in lockup." 

The words made Shane sigh in relief. 

"Someone in the bar called for an ambulance. Probably 'cause I was screaming my head off for someone to do it. Didn't wanna pull away, had to keep pressure on ya." Daryl's expression was left carefully blank, like he was trying not to get pulled into memories. "Rick was the first one there. He was close to the bar already, came in quick. Len was trying to run. Joe and him were fighting, ended up with both of 'em getting pulled in." 

Shane's brow furrowed, "They.. " 

"Len got pulled in for stabbing you. Witnesses already said Joe was part of it, and he was fighting with Len, so he got pulled in too. Rick said they found something on him when they searched him. Said it should be enough to keep him in on its own." 

It felt too good to be true, and Shane partially knew that it was because the Claimer gang still existed. Joe and Len were only two members. However, Joe was the leader. He was the head of the club, and the officer hoped that the rest would scatter without their leader. 

Then Daryl's expression twisted, and his gaze dropped. "Some of your other cop buddies stopped by. One of 'em was pissed all to hell. Think his name's Ford." 

And there it was. The man's eyes slid shut, and his insides twisted. Of course Abe and the others knew, but what did that mean? It would have been nearly impossible for them to miss seeing Daryl, and he didn't even want to start think about what that meant for his future at the station, seeing as he'd already been on leave when this had happened.

"Shit," He sighed out, bringing up a hand to rub through his hair, trying to sit up. "Shit," He tugged at his hair harder, but felt a hand pulling his own away. 

"Quit that shit," Hands pushed at his shoulders, guiding him back into his recline. "We'll deal with it when he comes. Right now, you need'a stop moving 'round." 

Shane huffed, but he didn't put up much more of a fight, not when he mind was dwelling on the fact that Daryl had said 'we.'

 

\---------------

 

Getting Daryl to leave had been a task. 

"Don't have to go, I can stay here." 

Shane sighed, "You do. You're not sitting in a chair all night. Go home, sleep in the damned bed." This had been nearly the third time that he'd said this. 

"Slept on worse than a chair." 

He groaned, "Damn it, Daryl. Quit being stubborn and go home. Eat some actual food." He leaned over, ignoring the pain in his side as he did so and rooted around in the drawers next to his hospital bed where they'd put his things that had been in his pockets at the time. "Go on. Here's the keys. And some money, too. Don't want you walking this late. Call a taxi or something. Rick already sent a text that he'd help you bring my car back to the house." 

Daryl glared at him, "Don't wanna go," As if he'd completely disregarded the other words. 

"You listen to anything I just said?" Shane asked, exasperated at this point. He took in a deep breath, and softened his tone. "C'mon, do this. For me? You can come right back after work tomorrow." 

Finally, Daryl took the keys, though his fingers lingered in Shane's grasp. The younger came a step closer, "Fine." 

A smile lit up the older ones face, and he brought a hand up to Daryl's jaw before he could think better of it. "Good. Now, I mean it. Eat something for tonight, and for breakfast tomorrow." Maybe it was the drugs flowing through his body, but he pulled Daryl's face towards his own without a care and pressed their lips together. 

He couldn't help but let the kiss linger, and try to press a few more to Daryl's lips before the other pulled away, feeling a squeeze to his arm before Daryl was fully out of his reach.

After Daryl was gone he was left alone in the room, the TV turned on so that he wasn't alone with his thoughts. Still, anxious thoughts of a man with a ginger mustache followed him in the night. 

 

\---------------

 

The first time that he woke up it was to the nurse checking his vitals and replenishing his medicine supply. The second time he woke up, there was a frowning man seated in the chair beside his bed. 

Shane jolted slightly, not having expected the frowning individual so soon. "Christ," He forced his breathing back into submission. "Abe?" 

The man hummed, "'Bout time you got up, sleeping beauty." He spoke in a gruff tone. "I've been sitting here for nearly fifteen minutes." 

"Why the hell didn't you wake me?" 

The man narrowed his eyes, "Don't take that tone with me, boy." Abe huffed and got up, pacing around the room and leaving him thoroughly confused at their exchange. 

"Abe, look.. " He tried, though he wasn't sure of what he would say next. 

Abe turned on his heel, looking sharply at Shane. "Nope, you're gonna keep quiet while I gather my thoughts." 

Shane stayed quiet, his own thoughts going wild, wondering if he was going to be fired or not.

"One week, Walsh. I gave you one damn week to lay low, and relax. And you couldn't even do that," Abe finally started. "One week. That's seven days, Shane. I've seen you take longer with simple reports than that!" Then the man's anger faded. "I'm not firing ya if that's what you're thinking."

Hope bubbled up in his chest, and he looked at the man with equally hopeful eyes. 

"I'm not firing you," Abe repeated to himself, before shaking his head. "But I can't let this go. This whole shit storm that you cooked up, that you didn't even bother telling me about. There's a lot of shit brewing, I'll tell ya that. With all these incidents that you've been involved in.. " The man's mustache seemed to twitch. "I'm not firing you. There's always gonna be a place here for you, son." 

When Abe said that word, it felt like the truth. After all Abe had been there from the very first day that Shane had become a police officer at the station, always a force to be reckoned with, but guiding and trustworthy. 

"But the more you keep poking at something, the bigger of a chance there is of it spurting out. I'm only saying.. " The silence seemed to stretch uncomfortably, as if Abe was having trouble getting the words out. "Have you ever thought of leaving the station?" 

Shane stared at the man, throat gone dry. "Thought you mentioned something a few times 'bout not firing me." 

"I'm not," The man frowned. "But I'm thinking you need a new start. I'd suggest it, hell, I'd even write ya one hell of a reference letter." 

"So.. You want me to quit." 

Abe came closer, "I don't want you to leave, but I'm doing what I think is best. And I think it's best if you find somewhere new. You have a job right here until you find somewhere else. I'm just wanting you to look around, see for yourself what other places are out there." 

A heavy hand came to his arm, squeezing. He looked up at the man. 

"I'm not telling you to leave. I'm asking you to think 'bout what's better for the station, and what's better for you." 

Shane swallowed roughly, and nodded his head. "Yeah, I'll think about it." He felt dazed. Everything was changing, and he didn't know if it was for the better or worse. 

This town was all that he'd ever known. The station was all that he'd ever known. The possibility of losing that felt like ground was being swept out from under his feet. Losing all the people that he'd worked alongside of for so long, and the community that he'd immersed himself in felt like losing a limb.

A hand patted at his cheek, "Look at me son, c'mon. I don't want you worrying about this shit right now. I want you healing. I hear knives can hurt like a bitch." Abe grinned, and then his expression softened. "I'm glad you're okay." 

He nodded his head but his gaze was still distant and his voice was single toned, "Yeah, me too. Thanks." 

Abe started walking towards the door then, before he paused. "And.. Uh, about you and the Dixon boy. It's .. " His fingers drummed at the doorway. "I would'a never pinned you for liking meat, Walsh. But I'm glad to see you're sticking to something for more than a few days." 

Shane's face warmed, and he could only stare as the man laughed loudly and walked off.

 

\---------------

 

By the end of his stay at the hospital Shane was half mad with the need to leave. Daryl was the one to pick him up, and Daryl was the one to help him walk when the pain in his side forced him to slow. The other drove them home, a bit nervously as he was behind the wheel of Shane's car, but they made it back in one piece. 

Things weren't right yet, things weren't settled yet. However as he held Daryl in bed that night he had faith that things could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few- maybe only two chapters left! Also, I am in no way a medical professional but I googled it the best that I could, so my apologies if it isn't completely accurate. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are love, thanks all!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The first day's always the hardest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, sexual scene ahead.

"Shane."

The man groaned, pushed his face against a bare back.

"Shane," The body in his arms struggled, wiggling and turning around.

He elected to press his face forward again, only to be met with a chest this time. It was thinner than his own, and softer. He mouthed at it, eyes still closed and his mind still hazy with sleep.

"God damn it, Shane," Hands came up to push his head away. "Wake up."

Shane settled his head on the pillow, but his arms were still tight around the younger. His body hurt, but he swore that if he ignored it for long enough it'd go away. Or maybe he'd fall asleep again. Either worked.

"C'mon, you've been groaning and twitching behind me for nearly ten minutes. I know it hurts."

"Doesn't," He mumbled against the pillow even though it was a blatant lie. It did hurt, but again, falling back asleep was preferable.

A hand smoothed through his hair, "If you take your pills now it won't be so bad when ya wake up. Now let me go."

Finally, his arms turned lax around the other and he opened his eyes, watching as Daryl got out of bed. He sighed and squinted at the clock in the dark room. It was two in the morning. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, giving a small groan at the pain running through his side. He pressed his hand to it, and sat in bed, waiting on the other.

A few minutes passed and Daryl was back with a two pill bottles and a bottle of water. "Open," Daryl muttered when he got back onto the bed.

Shane opened his hand, and two pills came down, settling in his palm. He knocked them back and swallowed them down with a swish of water. He tossed the bottle to the side and when he looked back he caught Daryl staring. Or rather, he caught Daryl staring at his side. True to Doctor Greene's words it had bruised. It'd made the surrounding skin a mesh of ugly colors, and sore to the touch.

Fingers came out, smoothing against the bandage gently.

"Hey," He murmured. "Quit looking at it, I know it's ugly."

Daryl's head shook, "Not real concerned with how ugly it looks. More concerned 'bout why it hurts so much. Doc told you to rest."

He feigned an innocent look, "I have been resting."

Daryl's eyes narrowed, "You started cleaning out the garage yesterday."

"Hey, I was just looking for something that I needed."

"And how did that work out for ya, huh? You mind jogging my memory?"

The older one sighed, remembering exactly how it had ended. He'd ended up doubled over in pain, and eventually had sat down on the concrete and had stayed like that until Daryl had found him. His hand came up, snatching the fingers in his large palm. "It's too early for this, alright? C'mon, you've got work in the morning."

He nudged his head closer, nosing at Daryl's jaw before he pressed a kiss to his cheek, jaw, and neck. Daryl's head shifted until their lips met. "Lay down with me, please?" He breathed out against the pair of lips, brushing them together.

After a moment the other nodded, and they settled back in bed. He curled around Daryl, holding him close, and ignoring the pulsing pain until the meds took him over, making the world pleasantly fuzzy while he dropped off into sleep.

"I'm still right," Were the last muttered words that he heard.

 

\---------------

 

Shane woke to an empty bed in the morning. He wasn't surprised, after all the medicine made him sleep like a rock. On these days he gave Daryl the go ahead to use his car and drive himself to work.

This made both of them uneasy. Shane, because he hated not being able to drive Daryl around himself, and because he never let anyone else drive his precious Jeep. No one. And Daryl was uneasy about it because he didn't want to crash it on accident. The teen had told him that he did have a license, but he'd hardly ever used it. After all he'd never gotten a car when he turned sixteen like other normal teenagers might receive. Instead most of his driving practice came from when Merle was too drunk to drive himself home from the bars, so he'd have Daryl drive him around.

He pushed his mind away from those thoughts and slowly got himself up and ready for the day, even though he wasn't going to be going anywhere. Eventually he sat himself down on the couch, and pulled his laptop into his lap. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but he hesitated. He opened up his browser, and his fingers danced across the keys but pressed nothing.

Instead he stared at the screen for a good few minutes before he worked up the courage to type in the name of a town. The town that had become his and Daryl's escape, nearly. The town that housed the diner.

Shane spent a good while looking through information about the town. How big it was, what the types of restaurants and businesses it had. There was more to offer just because it was a bigger town than the one they were already in. Nothing incredibly huge, but definitely bigger than their own. Then he hesitated even more before he looked up information about their police station. He didn't stay very long on that thread, and instead opened a new tab to look at houses for sale in the area. Of course, he didn't stay looking for too long either.

It made it feel too real to keep searching as if he was actually looking to buy a home.

With a heavy sigh he closed the laptop, and pushed it away. The TV became his main source of entertainment, thankfully turning his brain to mush and not allowing him to think very much on the internet tabs still open on his computer.

 

\---------------

 

When Daryl came back he was dirtied from his day at work, covered in motor oil and grease. Shane stared at the way the others shirt stuck to him with sweat, his hair mussed beyond belief.

"Shane," Daryl broke him out of his thoughts, lips pulled in a scowl.

Shane blinked, "What?"

"Said your name a few times. You go deaf or something while I left?"

The man eyed him up and down in an obvious way. "Not deaf. Must've been distracted by something is all." He grinned when he pulled a blush from him. "C'mere." He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Daryl came closer, but stopped right in front of him, shifting uneasily on his feet. "Doctor said.. "

He groaned, "I know what the doctor said. And I am resting. I'm still sitting down, right?" He tugged the other until he had a glaring heap in his lap. His hands squeezed at Daryl's hips gently, smoothing up his damp shirt.

Daryl met him halfway for the kiss, their lips slotting together easily. It wasn't long before Daryl's hands tangled into his hair, and his own hands were tugging the other closer. They hadn't done anything beyond kissing since that last night where they'd first been intimate with each other, despite what Shane wanted. He found himself itching to drag Daryl closer all the time, and found that it was on his mind more often than not but their lives had been a cluster fuck lately.

That, and Shane still wasn't going to push. But he allowed himself this. His hands slipped under Daryl's shirt, and he surged up to push their chests together but a pain tore through his side.

"Shit," He broke the kiss, deflating back into the cushions as he pressed a hand against his side.

Daryl's eyes turned wide and concerned, "Shit," He mumbled, echoing the words. "Told you, I told you-- " He seemed tense, and about ready to explode.

"Daryl," He spoke in a firm voice, the pain slowly fading. "It's fine, alright? Look at me, it's fine." His eyes narrowed, "Daryl.. Everything alright?"

The teen glared at Shane's side, before he slid from his spot on Shane's lap to instead sit next to him on the couch. He bit on the inside of his cheek viciously. "Guys at the shop know."

He blinked, looking over. "Know about what?"

Though really, he could bet that he already knew. Daryl sent him a look, and Shane sighed and nodded. "Figured it'd get around eventually." He ran a hand through his hair, "What happened?"

"Not a whole lot. Some of 'em just wouldn't talk to me. Martinez and the others, they just teased me 'bout it."

Shane glared, his jaw clenching. "Martinez?"

Daryl rolled his eyes, "Good Lord, not this shit again." He got up, looking ready to leave the room.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry, alright?" Shane leaned forward, ignoring the twinge in his side, grabbing ahold of Daryl's hand. "I just-- " He glared. "I don't like that guy."

Daryl fixed him with a look and cocked his brow, "No kidding," He muttered.

He brought Daryl closer again, his grip soft on the hand. "You okay, though?" He asked, half nervously.

Daryl jerked his head in a nod, looking off to the side. "Just thinking 'bout how everyone knows now. How fucked I am if my dad or Merle ever get out," His voice was soft, and resigned.

Shane's temper flared, "That's not happening." His jaw clenched. "I'm not letting anything happen to you. I mean that." He got up, despite Daryl's protests and his own body's protests. He walked closer, ducking his head to make eye contact. "Daryl, I mean that. They're never getting their hands on you ever again. They're going away for awhile, and when they get out? We're.. Shit, we aren't even gonna be here anymore."

Daryl blinked, confused. "What?"

Shane turned nervous again, bringing a hand up to rub through his hair. "I just mean-- " He pressed his lips together, and exhaled roughly. "I told you what Abe said. I've got a limited amount of time here." It felt like weight coming off his shoulders as he finally admit what was going to happen. "I was thinking.. Thinking that you could come with me. If you wanted."

Daryl stared at him, still a mix of hesitance and wariness.

"C'mon," He tried. "I know you wanna get outt'a here. Don't you remember that night out? When we went to that diner that last time? Don't you remember how that felt? How.. How it felt to have no one know us? To be able to have someplace new?" His brown eyes were wide, and pleading. "C'mon," He tried again, his voice soft and breaking away. "I want this to work out. For the both of us."

Daryl stayed quiet for a moment longer, before he huffed out a breath that sounded nearly amused. Or like he couldn't quite believe the situation. He did it again, and again, until his head was nodding and his lips quirked up.

Shane's face broke into a look of relief, and he wrapped the other up in his arms, squeezing him tight to his body.

 

\---------------

 

That night they laid in bed together, Daryl watching some hunting show on the TV that Shane had zero interest in, so he'd snatched up his laptop again. When he opened it his face warmed, all the tabs for houses for sale still up.

"What's that?" Daryl asked, looking towards the screen.

"It's nothing," Shane was quick to dismiss. Sure they'd talked about leaving, but for some reason he felt embarrassed for having already put this much thought into it. He went to exit out of the tab, but Daryl's hand came out and batted against his own, pulling the laptop closer.

Daryl turned still when he looked at the page filled with different houses, but after a long, exhaled breath the tension leaked from him. "No guarantee that I'm gonna find a job," Was Daryl's response.

"You will. You're good at your job. Dale wouldn't have hired you if you weren't. Besides, they've got three different mechanic shops. Maybe more, I didn't look too far into it."

Still, the other looked hesitant as he chewed on his bottom lip. "Just wanna be able to help pay for all this. I'm not gonna live off'a you."

Shane sighed, "Daryl, it's fine if you don't get a job right away. There's gonna be plenty that needs to be done at the house anyways." And in his mind, this was logical. They'd need to focus on moving boxes in and arranging everything in the house for a few days.

Apparently Daryl thought different. "Screw you, Walsh." He got a shove to the shoulder.

Shane finally put it together, looking at Daryl's pink cheeks. He pushed the laptop away, and onto his nightstand, knowing that he was going to earn another shove for his. "C'mon, I think you'd do just fine as a housewife. Cooking and cleaning. My little stay at home, hm?" He grinned.

Sure enough, Daryl shoved at him again, "Shut up!"

"What? You don't like that idea? Could buy you a cute little apron," He teased, ready to go on before a pair of lips pressed themselves against his own.

And just like that, warmth flooded his body. Daryl's kisses weren't so cautious and instead were nearly confident. Shane fought for control of the kiss, giving a soft groan when he felt teeth nipping at his bottom lip. "Shit, Daryl," He breathed out, caught off guard by the turn of events.

The youngers eyes were full of want, and he only pushed forward to kiss Shane again. The man rolled them, getting Daryl laying against the sheets. He rested on his elbow, laying on his side and half resting on Daryl since he couldn't exactly prop himself up without hurting his side.

In a matter of minutes they'd shed most of their clothes, only in their underwear now. Shane started pressing kisses down Daryl's jaw, neck, and stomach. The kisses got messier as he went on, his tongue sneaking out and smoothing over the skin under Daryl's belly button. Soon he was faced with Daryl's clothed cock, and he looked up, needing the reassurance that this was still okay. Daryl nodded his head, hands fisted against the sheets, but his head rocked back against the pillows when Shane started sucking at the material of his underwear that was hugging his hard on.

"Fuck," The teen breathed out, biting hard on his bottom lip.

"Nu-uh, don't hold back, let me hear it," He spoke, nodding to the bitten lip before continuing until Daryl was writhing against the bed with want. Shane eventually rid Daryl of his underwear, and slid his lips down and over Daryl's cock. His own cock was hard and aching between his legs but he ignored it except for allowing himself to grind against the sheets while he sucked the other off.

He didn't have much experience with guys. Hardly any, if he thought about it, but he figured that he could do this. All he had to do was repeat what he liked having done to himself, right?

Daryl came undone underneath of him, hands squeezing at the sheets until Shane guided the cautious hands into his hair, allowing the other to squeeze and tug if he wanted. It didn't take Daryl long before he was shooting off into Shane's throat. The man's throat felt raw, and he swallowed it all down as best as he could, wiping away any traces that had trailed from his mouth.

Daryl was pliant against the sheets, and his eyes were closed. Shane couldn't help himself as he carefully sucked marks into his inner thighs until Daryl shivered in sensitivity, and he finally relented. The man scooted up again and pressed their lips together for a kiss, their tongues rubbing lazily against one another.

"Shane," Daryl murmured, peaking his eyes open. His hand came out, laying against Shane's chest before trailing down a bit.

"You don't have to," He was quick to say once he saw the hesitation on Daryl's face.

"No, I wanna." Fingers came all the way down, skirting around the edge of his waistband. "Can I?"

Shane nodded his head and before long his underwear had been thrown across the room carelessly, and a light grip held his hard cock. Shane guided him, still able to see the nervousness on Daryl, but the younger was adamant that he wanted to do this. His hand wrapped around Daryl's, and tightened the grip, showing him how.

"Like that," He sped the motions up, tipping his head back with a soft groan.

It only took him a few minutes until he was spurting all over their joined hands.

He collapsed next to the other, and pulled him close, half heartedly cleaning them up with a t-shirt that was laying near. They exchanged kisses, and soothing touches before fully relaxing under the covers.

Before Shane fell asleep he texted Abe and requested the transfer to the town that he wanted. It felt final, but that was okay.

 

\---------------

 

Shane gave a hard stare to the building in front of them.

"You need any help in?" Daryl asked, looking amused from his spot in the driver's seat. They were at his first day of physical therapy, and as much as Shane claimed that he didn't need it, he knew that wasn't the truth.

He gave a half hearted glare, "My legs work just fine."

Daryl smirked and unbuckled, getting comfortable in his spot. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, you don't need anything. Go on, then. I'll be waiting out here."

Shane gave one last sigh before he got out of the car and went into the building. The woman that he was paired with to be his physical trainer looked young. Barely old enough to be doing this job, he thought to himself. She was petite, and had blonde hair, and blue eyes.

"Hey there," The girl chirped. "My name is Beth Greene, and I'll be your trainer today."

Shane blinked, staring at her before it clicked. "Greene. You related to Hershel Greene by any chance?"

Beth smiled and nodded, "He's my dad. I guess you can say the medical field runs in our family. He's told me alot about you, and your case. I'm sure we'll get you ready for work in no time."

And with that, it started. For being such a cheery and small looking thing she was damned stubborn, and pushed him to his limits. Shane felt like jello by the end of the session. It was embarrassing, finding out that he couldn't do what used to be simple tasks without running out of breath. Eventually he found himself sat on the ground and leaned up against the wall with a water bottle in his hand. Beth gave him a few minutes before coming to sit beside him.

"The first day's always the hardest," She started out, her voice quiet and kind. "It's always the worst finding out how much you were really effected. But the fact that you're here and doing this? That's a start. And that means it's going to get better."

Shane was quiet for a moment before nodding his head. "Guess I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around it is all."

"That'll get easier with time, too. And eventually there will be nothing to wrap your head around." With that she stood up, and gave a smile, "Alright, let's call it a day. Want me to get your boyfriend to help you out to the car or are you good?"

And with that they both froze, staring at each other. Shane was completely caught off guard, wondering how the hell she knew something like that. And then, of course, the word was what troubled him the most. Boyfriend. He'd never labeled what they had before. Only that they were together in every sense of the word. Boyfriend felt.. Juvenile, almost. He'd had girls call him their boyfriends before but he'd never given any importance to the title. Calling Daryl that felt wrong.

Coming back to his senses he looked at Beth, who seemed mortified with herself. "Oh, Lord. I am so sorry, I didn't mean to-- " She nervously pressed her lips together, eyes going wide. "I just-- I saw you two pull up, and I assumed-- "

Shane remembered how he and Daryl had kissed more than a few times in the hospital. How they'd been so close and practically holding hands when Herschel had spoken to them. When Daryl told the doctor that he'd care for him. Word really did get around, he thought to himself.

"It's fine," He cut her off quickly. "I'll be fine getting out there, too. I'm alright."

Shane walked out with a befuddled expression on his face, getting into the car without a word. Beth was standing near the doors and giving an apologetic smile and a wave before she walked out of their sight.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, noticing Shane's expression. "Something wrong?" He asked, concerned.

Shane was silent for a moment or two before he looked over, "She just called you my boyfriend."

Seeing Daryl choke on pure air with pink cheeks was worth it all.

 

\---------------

 

It didn't take long for Abe to get his transfer papers ready and write a reference letter for him. And even more than that, he'd gotten him an interview at the police station.  
He found himself nervous, far more nervous than he had for any other job interview. After all when Abe had interviewed him it had mainly been for formalities. Abe already knew that he was qualified and more than that, he knew Shane. The interview had asked a few important questions but by the end of it they'd been cracking jokes and laughing. This was going to be different. He didn't know the person in charge, and was unsure of what to expect.

The day of his interview he drove to the town and entered the police station. The parking lot was big, and officers were walking around everywhere. Some leaving, some coming in, some at their desks, some on break. It was a bigger operation, that was for sure.

He sent the office worker a smile. "Shane Walsh, I'm here for an interview."

The woman nodded her head, "Of course. Wait right here and Michonne will be right out."

Abe had mentioned that Michonne was the person in charge around here, and most likely she would be the one interviewing him. A friend from way back, Abe had claimed. A few minutes later a woman came out, dressed in uniform with long dreads that were pulled back and out of the way.

"Shane Walsh?" She called.

He stood up, walking up and extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

Her dark, brown eyes flickered over him, clearly assessing him. "Please, just call me Michonne. Follow me." And with that, she was walking. He followed behind her until they were settled in a private office where she sat behind a large desk. "Please, have a seat."

The first part of the interview was about formalities. What academy he'd gone to, how many years he'd been in officer. The different certifications that he had. Still, she looked like she knew all of this already. Or at the very least, like she didn't care. She was staring right at him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"I heard you were put on leave shortly before you asked Abe for a transfer."

He swallowed hard, "That's right."

"And you were involved in a fight that ended in a stab wound. While you were off the clock, and still on leave."

His jaw clenched, "That's right again."

Her fingers drummed at the desk, looking at him. "Abe spoke to me. Put in a good word for you, and explained the incident's. Abe's a good friend of mine and I trust him if he says you're a good man, but I want you to understand something. I don't need a hot head." She paused, just simply staring at him. "I don't need a hot head, and I won't have one. If you let your anger control you here? If you get yourself into situations like those? You'll be gone before you can blink. Am I understood?"

Shane kept his face clear, and his jaw locked. "You're understood."

Then, Michonne's lips suddenly spread into a cheshire cat smile. "You know, I think you're going to do good here. And I know just who I'm going to pair you with for training, and then for a partner. You'll be on desk duty until you're healed." She got up, "Welcome to the family, Walsh."

 

\---------------

 

That night Shane received an email entailing his first day back on work, and the people that he was being paired with. Morgan Jones would be his training officer, and then he would be permanently paired with a rookie by the name of Tara Chambler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my absence all. I was sick and out of it for a few days, and then my work hours got bumped up. There is only one more chapter after this, and it will be the epilogue. I will try to get that out soon, but no promises. Hope you all liked it! Comments and kudos are love!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life.

One year later. 

 

\---------------

 

"Why do you have to be such an asshole?" 

"We really doing this right now?"

"We sure are. You took my muffin for the last time, old man. You better start paying me." 

Shane's brow went up, and he looked over at his partner in the police car. "Old man? Did you just call me old man?" 

Tara shrugged carelessly, "I saw some greys in your hair yesterday." 

Without meaning, his eyes widened. "You did not, you little liar-- " He looked in the rear view mirror, only seeing his dark hair with no traces of grey. He glared at the younger, and sure enough she was smirking to herself, and sipping at her coffee. "And you call me an asshole," He grumbled to himself. 

"That I did. Don't steal my muffin tomorrow, and we won't have a problem. Now come on, let's get gone. I have plans today, and I'm sure Daryl wants you home at a decent hour." 

Shane didn't bat an eye at the subject change, and just snorted. "Yeah, you're probably right. He busted my ass for missing dinner yesterday."

They'd been partners for about a year now, and they'd settled in well together. Tara was definitively the more light hearted of the pair, but she was just as hard headed as he was sometimes. She balanced out the partnership well in a way that didn't make him feel like he was being watched over like a toddler might, or like he was a wild animal that needed controlling. He found a genuine friendship in her, one that he hadn't expected at all. 

"What're your plans anyways?" He asked as he drove the squad car away from the coffee shop.

Tara went slightly quiet at that, chewing on the inside of her cheek. 

He looked at her expectantly, "C'mon. You've got five minutes to spill 'till we get to the call."

"I have a date," She finally let out. Though her fast tone made it sound more like 'Ihaveadate.'

A smile crept on his face, "A date, huh? What's she like? Where're you taking her?"

Tara gave a sheepish grin, "Well.. Her name's Denise," And from there the girl went on, talking on and on about this blonde that she was infatuated with. He listened dutifully. 

The two dissolved into easy chatter after that, mostly about Tara and her new date. 

He'd been wary of her when they'd first met. She'd been a rookie, hell, she still was. When they'd first met she offered him a fist bump, and he'd cursed the high heavens, because of course he'd get stuck with this girl. However, they worked. It'd taken a few weeks before they truly started to get along, but they were important parts of each others lives now. 

And Lord when Tara had found out that he was living with another man, she'd been blown away. 

He could still remember her dumbfounded expression before she'd promptly grilled him about his love life. It had been an embarrassing conversation to say the least, full of her pointing out his ears that were turning pink. She'd ended the conversation by giving him another fist bump, and muttering something about them being the gay, dream team of police officers, though he'd pretended not to hear her at the time. 

He hadn't been expecting Tara, nor the friendship that he'd found in her, but he wouldn't change it.

 

\--------------------

 

The summer heat was suffocating, and it made him reluctant to leave his now otherwise empty, air conditioned car. The man stayed parked outside of a two story house, just glaring at the sun through the windshield. 

The house still needed some work, he thought to himself as he looked it over. He needed to fix the rickety porch swing, needed to make the wooden steps leading up to the porch set straighter, and the lawn was in need of a mowing. However a warmth overtook him as he noticed everything else. Daryl's motorcycle was parked right next to his Jeep. It had been Merle's but an old junker that had long since stopped working. Daryl had worked on it the first few months that they'd come here, and now it was shining like it was new. 

He could remember the first time that they'd been shown this house by a realtor. The woman had been very nice, and never asked about their living arrangements, though Daryl hadn't said a word the whole time until they'd gone back to the car, alone together, where the younger had finally confessed that he'd liked it. 

Shane's eyes looked over as the front door opened, and he rolled the window down. 

A barefoot Daryl stepped out, narrowed eyes staring at the car. "You waiting on an invite, or are you gonna come in?" 

The other looked tired from his day at work. Despite Daryl's worries, he'd snagged a job at one of the local mechanic shops. They'd put him on desk duty for awhile before they let him actually touch any cars, but he was working there and doing what he liked. Though knowing Daryl, the younger would probably be back in their garage tinkering around before the day was through.

Shane huffed out a breath, "Dunno. I'm not really feeling the love with that tone you're giving me." He could see Daryl rolling his eyes, and muttering to himself. Probably calling him an asshole, he guessed. 

The man got out of the car and walked straight up to the other, hands clasping his hips to tug him close and press their lips together. There were plenty of neighbors around that could see them, but Shane didn't care. He'd long ago stopped. He couldn't help himself as he pushed Daryl against the door frame, trying to meld their bodies together. Eventually he felt a tug at his hair, and he leaned back to find Daryl blushing, with his eyes looking around with just a hint of nerves in them. 

"Quit worrying. This is our house, and I'm gonna kiss you if I wanna." 

The younger huffed, "How 'bout you take me inside. Kiss me in a more comfortable place than the damned door frame." 

And really, Shane couldn't argue with that.

 

\---------------

 

Later on they laid in bed, both bare and sweaty. 

They'd just barely made it up the stairs. Honestly, Shane would've liked having Daryl bent over the counter, or having a romp on the couch, but the other had nearly dragged Shane up by his ears, complaining half heartedly about the rug burn that he still had on his ass from the last time that Shane had gotten adventurous about where they got frisky. 

Shane had his eyes closed, laying flat on his back. The teen was curled into his side, his finger tracing over a spot on his side. 

There was scar tissue there from that night in the bar, but that was it. The only thing left of the incident was his scar, and the papers that they'd gotten from the courts. They'd had to go, and make statements. Daryl had seemed so fidgety that day. Sweaty, with his eyes flickering around. He looked like he'd been tweaking on something, but in the end Joe and the others did go to jail. Of course there was always the possibility of Daryl's father, and Merle getting out, but they were gone. They were gone, away from the town, and they weren't looking back. 

The hand at his side trailed up his chest, before creeping down to touch his hip bone. Shane snatched the hand up in his own, twining their fingers together. His head lulled to the side, and he fixed Daryl with a look. 

"What?" Daryl asked, his clear blue eyes staring at him. 

His head only shook, unable to put into words how the swelling in his heart felt. Instead he pressed forward, and kissed Daryl. It was lazy, and smooth. He took his time venturing inside Daryl's mouth, and shifted onto his side so their bodies could be closer. 

"I love you," He murmured after he'd tucked his head against Daryl's neck. He felt fingers in his hair, smoothing through it. 

"Love you too," Daryl spoke this as equally quiet against his hair, before he was pressed into the bed with a tirade of kisses, their laughs echoing through the home. 

 

\---------------

 

Later that night the pair was out in their backyard, the temperature more tolerable now that the sun had gone down. They had a nice fire pit and Shane was sitting in his lounge chair, a beer in his hand with his eyes closed. 

He jolted when he felt something ice cold against his neck. "Shit," He huffed, glaring at a grinning Daryl who was holding up another ice cold beer. "Huh, you suddenly turn twenty one while I was closing my eyes?" 

Of course Shane wouldn't actually stop him from drinking it. He knew that Daryl could handle his alcohol, and he'd done worse things in his own youth. 

Daryl shook his head, "Nope, just got thirsty. Had to get my own drink since you decided to take that nap." The younger threw something to him, that landed in his lap. "This was buzzing when I went in there, too." 

Shane picked up the phone, and unlocked it. One unread message. 

Dinner on Sunday? Would like to see you two there. -Rick Grimes. 

The Grimes family was still a source of questionable emotions in his life, but the distance had done wonders for them. Shane no longer felt like he was under Rick's thumb, and from what he heard, Lori and Rick were doing good at marriage counseling. His relationship with the Grimes' was better than it had been in years, despite the fact that they no longer lived in the same town. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, his mind quipped. 

"It's Rick. Asking if we wanna come over on Sunday." 

Daryl cocked a brow, and studied Shane's face with a hint of worry in his eyes. "You wanna?" 

Shane knew that Daryl was asking more than that, and his heart swelled with emotion for the younger. Daryl understood him so completely, and was really asking if Shane was up for it. 

He could still remember the night that he'd told Daryl everything about his past with the Grimes. About high school, about that drunken night and the sting of rejection, about his false love for Lori, about his jealousy, about his worry for being incapable of giving or receiving love. Of course he'd had a few beers in him before he'd admit to all of that, but talking about it was closure in a way. The feelings were no longer there, and it was time to let the past be the past. 

Shane nodded his head, "I'm up for it if you are. 'Sides, Carl would probably wanna see you again." 

They'd visited Rick and Lori a few times already. The very first time it had been odd, and stilted. Like they didn't know what to do or how to act with Daryl in their house. Thankfully Carl had been the one to break the tension, making Daryl sit down and look at his toy cars with him. They'd stayed like that for nearly an hour. 

The teen's lips turned up, "Guess he might be. I'm up for it." 

Shane typed off a message confirming that they'd come before he tossed the phone aside, letting it land somewhere in the grass. His eyes slid back to Daryl's appearance, noticing all the grease and motor oil smudges on him. "You take a grease bath or something?" 

Daryl shrugged carelessly, poking at the fire with a booted foot. "Might as well have been. Fuckin Jeep of yours needs all the help it can get. Not even finished with it yet." 

Shortly after they'd moved in his Jeep started having issues. It got him from point A to point B, but Daryl threatened that it soon wouldn't. He'd been working on it anytime that he could here at the house, usually after work. Shane never understood all that car mumbo jumbo when Daryl tried to explain it, but he trusted the other enough to do whatever needed being done. 

"Would be better just to junk it." 

Shane blinked, eyes going wide. "I know you did not just say that to me." 

"It's a piece of shit, Shane. Putting more work into it than it's worth." 

His lips pressed together, "I'm keeping that car till it won't run anymore." 

Daryl shook his head, looking at the fire. "Might only be a few weeks, then." 

Shane glared, but his lips were hitching in a smile. "Shut up," He fired with a huff. "And c'mere, while you're at it." Daryl looking sweaty and covered in grease never failed to get him riled up. 

"Thought I took a grease bath, remember? Wouldn't wanna mess up your clothes." He spoke in a dry tone. 

He smiled, "Lucky for you, I'm wearing an old t-shirt. Now, c'mere. Please?" He patted his thigh, and set his beer aside. "You ought'a make me feel better after all that shit you said about my poor jeep." 

Daryl scoffed, and rolled his eyes, but he was grinning right along with Shane. It only took a few minutes for him to have a lap full of Daryl, and for the two of them to be kissing. 

They made out for awhile, enjoying the steady burn that the sensations set off inside of them. Shane let his hands travel over Daryl's body, while he enjoyed the way Daryl's tugged and sank into his own hair. After some time they slowed, only trading a kiss or two before they stopped, just slumping together in a pile on the lounger chair.

Shane thought back to a year ago. He could remember a man so angry with life. Someone so resigned to not getting what he wanted in life that he just wouldn't allow himself to admit what he truly wanted. The hatred had spewed around in his stomach for so long, but those feelings were all drained out now. 

Instead, he was filled with emotions that he couldn't remember experiencing before. Emotions that made that anger leave in an instant. Emotions that made his eyes turn fond, and his heart thump excitedly. 

He looked down, and watched as Daryl pressed his face closer to him, nudging his nose against his chest with a happy, content sound. 

Shane smiled, tightened his grip on the other, and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. Thanks for everyone who supported this story, I know the Sharyl community is a small one, so every comment and kudos really meant a lot to me! Hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> Unsure of where this will go, but I had an itch to write it out. Let me know what you think! Also for any questions about the age I'm thinking Daryl's like maybe eighteen and Shane's in his mid to late twenties.


End file.
